Once Bitten, Twice Shy
by Varigos D. Vastitas
Summary: Unwittingly uplifted beyond expectation by their foes, humanity not only destroyed their aggressors, but surpassed them and made their way to the stars. As Humanity expands from the Earth will they find their place in the galaxy, or will ghosts from the past come back to haunt them? (Co-writer NathanHale2.)
1. Twisted Timeline

- November 16, 2016 -

Humanity defeats the Ethereal invaders using reverse engineered tech from invaders. November 16th designated international holiday. With knowledge stolen from mind controlled Uber-Ethereal, Psi-volunteer Evangeline Shepard reveals Ethereal reason for invasion. Humanity was uplifted as a desperate attempt to fight back against a hidden psionic alien species. (All info classified under Black ops project, Codenamed: Leviathan) Due to combat on-board, the temple ship is unstable and the Uber ethereal is forced to pilot it into space where it was destroyed by psychic/black-hole/explosion.

- December 2016-

United Nations reformed into one global government: The Human Alliance. Wartime preparations started in case of Ethereal survivors. Using firestorm interceptors dark side of the moon was mapped, Ethereal remnants base discovered.

- January 2017 -

After a month long siege, Ethereal base is cleared out of remnants. Human colonization and occupation of moon underway. Alliance command designs plans to create Luna Base. Converting Moon into star-ship Shipyard/XCOM HQ.

- February 2017 -

Thousands of people worldwide are reporting psychic phenomena. XCOM testing reveals that the psionic potential has risen several magnitudes, it is confirmed that almost 90% of humanity holds psychic potential of various levels. Gene modification is now tested as a part of Earth Military, results are promising. Further discoveries were made into the Ethereal troops, it's discovered that the troops were all either factory made or clone soldiers. Dozens of new gene modifications are made from the genetic information, but the decision is made to not clone any of the aliens.

- July 2017 -

Dozens of breakthroughs have been made by reverse engineering Ethereal factories on the moon. Elerium 115, Ethereal Alloy, Meld, Ships and weapons undergo mass production. Alliance Military commissions numerous combat capable space ships. Due to unanimous global support production and alien tech support construction moves quickly. With Drone accelerated construction Luna Base is expected to be fully created by 2020.

- December 2017 -

Another Psi-soldier is used to test the Ethereal Communication Device. The machine reacts unexpectedly, amplifying the Soldiers psionic ability. Several more tests are created, each showing unexpected results. The Ethereal device forces high level psionics to higher levels but gives unimaginable strain to the user's brain, resulting in high risks of stroke, coma, hemorrhaging and other brain damage. Volunteers are now classed as XCOM Black Ops and classified as super soldiers due to their unbelievable levels of combat efficiency.

- March 2018 -

The First XCOM Super-carrier and Flagship, Gaia's Shield, is completed. The 5000 Meter long carries thousands of Hellfire fighters (upgraded firestorms) and holds enough weapons to take on a small Ethereal fleet by itself. Super Carriers Gaia's Sword and Gaia's Bow are expected to be ready by December. Alliance Military continues mass production of ships, already have over one thousand combat ready ships however at least 3/4ths are frigates. Due to wartime preparation number of civilian spacecraft is less than a hundred.

- August 2019 -

After hundreds of failures an unmanned Mechanized Exoskeleton Cybersuit (MEC) Suit is made. Controlled by a drone core rather than a human pilot the MEC Drones have only a fraction of an MEC Soldier's Combat effectiveness, but this problem is made up by their superior tools and armament. Original Psi-Volunteer Evangeline Shepard dies from brain hemorrhage, the Alliance mourns her passing. A focus is made on increasing the lifespans of the Psi-Volunteers.

- September 2019 -

MEC Drones are made in massive numbers to reinforce all combat units. Alliance Military Expects a 1:1 Ratio to be made by 2025. Morale of soldiers is raised by the fact that drones can be used in hostile environments, drastically reducing casualties. Gene Modification has become commonplace in the military. While not required, most if not all choose to become modified. Due to concerns for abuse, gene modifications require the soldier to remain in the military for the remainder of their lives. Soldiers who become to old or injured to continue can elect to be refitted as an MEC Soldier or join command.

- December 2019 -

Increasing concerns about the number of crew needed to properly maintain the Alliance Fleet is addressed with the "trinity system" For every one human crew member one VI Pilot and MEC Engineer is assigned to every ship. A thirty percent increase in efficiency is noticed immediately.

- January 2020 -

Humanity creates hundreds of deep space probes using Ethereal technology and launches them across the galaxy, searching for any sign of the Etherials. Several groups propose looking for other alien life as well, but distrust and scars due to the Etherials cause many more to shoot down such a motion. Unknown to the general public a explosive device is hidden inside the probes, made to detonate at the slightest hint of tampering. Dozens of probes are destroyed by Asteroids or space debris.

- April 2022 -

Luna base is proclaimed complete. The XCOM super base covers nearly 3/4ths of the moon. Materials are excavated from beneath the moon's surface and shipped to the earth for processing. With Luna Base completed Alliance military begins work on a satellite weapons system combining stealth satellite technology and the original firestorms technology. Manned by drones, the individual satellites would be able to shoot down any detected craft. If a hostile target was too much for one satellite the drones could coordinate with each other to destroy or cripple the threat. All human ships are encoded with an IFF transponder. The Alliance decides to include the new "Archangel" Network on any colony world.

- July 2030 -

The Firestorm mining company takes number one in their line of work due to their unorthodox method of gathering materials using retrofitted XCOM Firestorms. Several NASA Terra-forming programs are tested on Mars with minor success. Several designs for a Terra-forming factory are dismissed, requiring too much power to be useful. Alliance Command allows the commission of an Elerium 115 power plant. The expected output for the facility would fuel several terraform factories at once. Three power plants are commissioned. Mars Terra-forming is expected to take less than ten years.

- September 2030 -

An unusual formation is noticed during a Mars Geological Survey. Further investigation revealed it to be an unknown alien facility of different design than the Etherials. Alliance high command is Alerted, and dispatches Sword-0: XCOM's Black Ops. The facility is raided, but no signs of Extraterrestrials are found. XCOM scientists determine that the ruins are an archive from another species and that facility is over fifty millennium old. An XCOM base is established over the ruins, under 24/7 guard by XCOM Black Ops. News of the facility is hidden from Earth, allowing the terraform project to continue on schedule.

- 2040 -

Humanity has spent a decade reverse engineering technology and learning history from the "Prothean" archives. Alliance is concerned by the data discovered. A priority is made to find any and all weaknesses in Prothean Technology. A Warning message about the Reapers is discovered furthering Alliance concerns about an upcoming alien threat. The Mass Effect relay is located and forced out of the system using externally attached thrusters. The loss of the relay creates a need for a substitute transport system.

- 2041 -

The Entire Alliance military is refitted with mass accelerator resistant armor and shield piercing weapons. By combining Protean Shield Technology with Elerium power supplies and Ethereal Alloy plating, the Standard issue Titan Armor was made impenetrable by replica Prothean mass accelerator rifles, however Prothean Particle weapons could break the shielding after several minutes of constant sustained fire. Due to the superiority of the Fusion lance and laser technology, most if not all of the military ships declined the mass accelerator guns. Instead Civilian craft were supplied the technology as self-defense weapons.

- 2042 -

Mars Terraform Project is declared a complete success, Alliance Space Administration (ASA) begins looking for other worlds to terraform nearby. Several worlds are considered, but without proper transport the plans have to be shelved. Weariness from the constant war preparation has begun to wear on the common people of the Alliance. To prevent power from being taken from the military, information about the reaper threat is "leaked" to the public. The whistle blower is arrested and "executed" fanning the flames and "forcing" the alliance to confirm that the reaper threat was known about. All resistance to the ever increasing military is gone before Christmas.

- 2070 -

Rough plans are made for a new way to use the mass Relays. using the new system a ship would warp itself to a targeted relay, without having to use the paired relay. Several Tests are conducted, however the new system is not as stable as needed. Eight out of ten tests recorded the unmanned test ships crashing into the targeted relay. While the science is solid, the targeting system using the relay network's on-board systems allows too much error for the relay-less system to be effective.

- 2071 -

All Habitable planets in the Sol System are undergoing various levels of colonization. (Neptune, Pluto, Mars, Earth) Many are worried that without a viable means of transportation further expansion and colonization programs would be pointless, a noticeable drop in enthusiasm for space travel is noted.

- 2075 -

A new Virtual Intelligence System is created to use the Link-free relay system. The Unmanned tests prove the system works, allowing mankind to warp to any system with a mass relay from anywhere. A solution is looked into about how to return ships to the Sol system. Without a mass relay the system allows people to expand, but not to return. Alliance Military realizes that the ever expanding boarders are going to require heavier numbers to effectively protect.

- 2080 -

Mars' Capital City of Evangeline is completed. While hundreds of other cities are under construction, most lack the population to be called real cities. The Alliance Fleet celebrates the Creation of its fifty-thousandth ship. Thirty-five Super-carriers (5000 meters), Five-hundred Science Vessels (2000 meters), Hundreds of combat ready training or medical ships (1.5km-2.5km) , One-Thousand Dreadnaughts (8km), over Ten thousand regular carriers (2.5km), and thousands of other ships all waiting for war with the unmet enemies of humanity.

- 2093-

By random chance an xcom scientist turns the XCOM Hyperwave Array into a way to help humanity with the problem of returning to the Sol system without a mass relay. Calling it the Hyperwave Emitter, it was little more than a Hyperwave beacon mounted on a Satellite using Deep space sensors, the Alliance fleet could use the new style of Satellite to lock onto like a mass relay. With the release of the new technology many colony ships are commissioned and prepared to launch withing the next several years.

- 2095 -

With Mass colonization of the stars planned humanity searches for an effective means of communication with itself across the stars. Replicas of the Ethereal Communication device are devised, using Psi-Volunteers a means of instantaneous communication is devised. Volunteer recruitment nearly triples as a result, allowing for at least one member of the XCOM Black Ops for every colony planed.

- January 2100 -

Humanity's next "Seed" world is picked and designated Shanxi. The colonization is overseen by three alliance science vessels and several medical ships. No transforming is needed and the natural Earth-like conditions make the transition to the new world much easier. Alliance Military keep note of a nearby Mass Relay, but decide not to remove it to allow an opportunity for a peaceful first contact. Several Carriers and a dreadnought are assigned to Shanxi's protection.

- 2127 -

The Alliance military is unnerved by a lack of discovered alien life. A new round of stealth observation ships and MEC Drones are created to scout out the mass relay systems. The Ships are assigned two MEC Soldier to command the ship and a dozen MEC Drones to crew it. Each ship is given a Nuclear Self-destruct Device and Hyperwave Relay to use. While widely considered a suicide mission many MECs consider it an honor to be chosen for the task.

- 2140 -

Humanity's first MEC Soldier, David Leon Roberts (XCOM's Black Knight), celebrates his one hundred and fiftieth birthday - which is over one hundred and twenty six years after becoming a MEC Soldier. Shortly after his hometown celebration, he was arrested for deploying fireworks from a retired firestorm.

- 2148 -

Several MEC Scouts return carrying data from various Alien species identified as the Turians, Quarians, Asari and Salarians. The gathered information is kept under lock and Key by XCOM and Alliance Command. The Information is mostly cultural information and scattered rumors of military power. Alliance command uses the new data to implement several combat plans in the event of hostile contact. Shanxi is marked by the alliance as under risk due to dangerous proximity to Turian territory. Two Super-carriers and several Dreadnoughts are assigned to the planet's protection.

- 2150 -

Shanxi celebrates it's fiftieth year after colonization. The Seed world's estimated three-hundred million spend a week celebrating the successful founding of a seed world outside the sol system. The Alliance military are concerned with an increasing number of Turian patrols spotted by scout ships, however command choose to ignore the ships in favor of increased patrols and ships. A Science vessel is assigned a project to determine a method to shut down a mass relay and prevent its use.

- 2154 -

Despite years of study, no progress has been made in determining how to control the mass relay near Shanxi. To prevent Turian detection the Science Vessel and its three Frigate escort are equipped with Stealth technology and assigned a Psi-Volunteer for its defense Concerns are made about the Science vessel's lack of effective weapons and Armor, however Alliance Command believes that the stealth technology and armament would be enough.

- 2157 -

The Scientific Team studying The Shanxi Relay report they were attacked by Turian Ships without provocation. The Science Vessel, The Navarro, was reported destroyed by Sustained fire from several Turian Cruisers firing disruptor torpedoes. The Escort activated stealth and retreated to Shanxi.


	2. The Relay 314 Incident

Turian General Desolas Arterius was not particularly thrilled. He was a good Turian, never questioned orders, never disobeyed command. However sending a General, a Dreadnought and its four dozen patrol cruiser escort all to look for a crashed research vessel was far too much in his not so humble opinion. As it was the convoy had spent weeks looking for any sign of the crashed ship or its cargo with little to no luck. Turian soldiers were the peacekeepers of the Galaxy, and never failed to complete their task. However like all sentient beings they could succumb to little issue, like boredom, given enough time.

Desolas was idly thinking of ways to improve the moral of his bored troops when the answer fell right into his lap. A dozen cruisers on patrol had spotted four vessels of unknown origin examining a mass relay. The Laws of the Citadel Counsel clearly state that if this was a first contact scenario that peaceful talks needed to be engaged. However Palaven High Command clearly stated that no one was to know anything about the mission. Desolas smiled in his seat, his mandibles twitching with excitement. After all wasn't it also against Citadel Law to activate a mass relay without permission?

According to the patrol there was three vessels the size of a Cruiser and three other ships roughly five-hundred meters long. According to scans the largest ship was also the one with the least amount of armor. "Tell the patrol to target and destroy the largest ship first" The general commanded, "see if we can't capture one of the other three."

Desolas watched on the holographic Combat Information Center as his dozen ships swooped in with a perfect diamond formation, focusing fire upon their target, to no effect. Instantly the quantum comm system of his dreadnought, Palaven's Might, started filling with chatter as the unidentified enemy returned fire with long range lasers. Seconds after impact several ships display reported massive damage to the forward hull. Some even marking external turrets destroyed.

"Report!" General Arterius barked, "Whats happening?" He demanded to know.

"Sir," His comm officer replied, "The enemy is firing upon us with some long range laser or plasma weapons. They keep cutting past our cruiser's shields and melting into the armor! Our Cruisers are reporting that our mass accelerator rounds aren't damaging their shields at all!"

Desolas was not pleased by the hint of fear he could perceive in the soldier's voice. That would not do, they were Turians! The backbone of the Citadel and no dirt stained primitive was going to embarrass him! "Use disruptor Torpedoes, focus fire on their command ship! I want to see it burn!"

"Sir, there is something wrong with one of the Cruisers!" General Arterius watched in disbelief as one of his cruisers turned from combat, and began a collision course with one of its sister ships, while firing upon the others in the patrol! The three enemy frigates had ceased firing upon the rogue ship entirely, instead joining it on its assault upon the patrol. The command crew of Palaven's might watched in horror as their ships collided destroying two and severely damaging the others.

If the general's anatomy was more like his adversaries he would have turned pale. What possible technology would allow the enemy to seize control of the ship, and have it fire upon its brethren? The knowledge that the largest enemy vessel was finally taking damage was no consolation for what he just observed. The enemy had shown that they could seize control of Turian Vessels with an unknown means. They have Shield bypassing Laser Technology. If this was just a taste of their technology than they needed to be subjugated by the Hierarchy as soon as possible. If the peace loving fools like the Asari or Salarian found out there would be no end to their interference.

"Sir! The Enemy Frigates have engaged some form of stealth technology! The patrol thinks they are fleeing!" The Comm officer's relief was apparent, but Desolas wasn't sure he could scold him.

"Get me a line to Palaven High Command, Now! We have a much bigger situation than before!" The readouts for the remaining patrol were not good. Of the remaining ten cruisers all had critical levels of damage, with all but one having the primary engines disabled. Three frigates crippled or killed a dozen cruisers four times their size. The Hierarchy would not be pleased.

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Captain David Anderson was preparing. His unit, XCOM Sword-01 was being dispatched to Shanxi along with 30 other Psi-Op units. Another First contact scenario had occurred, and just like one-hundred and fifty years before, they were hostile. Already dozens of people were proclaiming 'remember the Navarro!' and waving Earth flags or displaying XCOM's symbol proudly.

Already the Alliance Fleet was mobilizing for war. One-hundred thousand war machines were floating amongst the stars. the first and second fleets were being deployed to protect Shanxi against any possible threat, each Fleet over five thousand ships strong and led by Humanity's first flagship 'Gaia's Shield' was assigned to lead the defensive forces.

With the combined forces of Shanxi's own defensive fleet, The Archangel Satellites in orbit, and the reinforcements from Earth, command felt that the enemy landing a ground force would be impossible. Defending the ground was not Anderson's orders. XCOM and Alliance High Command wanted a specimen. Sword-01 intended to hand them a whole ship full of them.

Rather than wait for the enemy to approach, over a hundred XCOM Units were assigned to an MEC Stealth Scout Ship. The plan was to head for the Shanxi Relay, and trace the attackers back to either their host fleet or home world. The classic insertion method 'Acid Rammer' would be used, blasting a hole in their ships. After entering, each squadron would capture one of the hostiles and return to Shanxi. If possible they were to disable as many of the fleet if they could.

Getting captured was not an option, Humanity had learned from the Ethereal war that if captured they ran the risk of the enemy gaining their technology and secrets. That could not be allowed to happen. In the event that they fell to the enemy their armor and weapons were equipped to self-immolate with plasma. The self- destruction packs would apparently melt a hole into the enemy ships as well, so it was a win-win.

Again However, Anderson's orders were different. He was the Psi-Volunteer assigned to his team. His orders were to Control, Capture, or kill as many aliens as possible. The goal was to demoralize and decimate the enemy numbers. Anderson was to lead Sword-01 into the devil's nest and to be perfectly honest with himself he was excited. Anderson was the youngest Psi-Volunteer at twenty years old. Despite a perfect record and perfect marks in every combat simulation, this was the first mission where he would be in actual life or death combat.

The speakers in the room cut into his musing, "The Commander says we found our prey boys. Prepare for insertion in five."

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Kevin Knives was the chief researcher and overall head scientist for XCOM, it was his revolutionary designs that gave birth to the Prothean Titan Armor and the Link-less Relay system. Usually Kevin enjoyed his work, today however he was getting a third degree from the XCOM Commander, Jack Harper. "How did this happen Knives? We flush millions into your work, and at first contact with the Turians we lost the Navarro! If the ship hadn't been backing up its data with HQ every month we could have potentially lost years of data on the Relay System!"

Knives was understandably nervous. He had been bragging about the invincibility of his shield generators for years. "I've been reviewing the data from the Shanxi Relay survivors, Commander. The VI combat data has scans of what happened." the laboratory's holographic display began replaying the first moment between Turian and Humans. "As you can see Commander their original volley of mass accelerator rounds were completely useless against us, even their short range defensive lasers were ineffective against our frigates' shields."

Kevin made the holographic display focus in on the second salvo of shots, "These secondary shots that were fired had a different energy signature to them, and upon impact with the Navarro's shields that energy was dispersed and disrupted the shields by overloading them with the foreign energy. It was only the combined fire from so many large guns that damaged our armor afterwords. The Prothean's never used anything like this. My guess is that this ammo type was made to overload mass effect based barriers. Its only an unpleasant coincidence that it worked on our laser-kinetic barriers. I'm afraid to say sir that judging by the new data that unless we have the advantage of numbers that they could potentially beat us. If they use focus fire tactics like this or have ships with greater firepower using that disruptor ammo then we still might take some significant damage. "

The view screen that displayed the commander's concealed visage was featureless, but his displeasure was obvious to everyone who looked at his glowing blue eyes. "What can you tell me so far, I want some good news. Now."

Kevin nearly choked on his own spit, when the Commander was pissed, bad things happened. Really, really bad things. "Using the combat data I have determined several things. First off is that the Turian's seem to be entirely reliant on reverse engineered Protean tech. Their guns matched only a fraction of our civilian's mass accelerator guns and they seem to show no signs of using Hyperwave communication or psychic ability. The armor of their ships seems to be platinum with trace amounts of Iridium and Palladium. I wont be able to determine more without a significant sample to work on. I'm hoping that at some point we could get a cyber-warfare specialist into their systems, using previously collected data I'm hoping that the viruses we designed would be able to hit their systems and cause some sufficient damage before they are detected, much less disabled."

The Commander said nothing for several moments, adding to the scientist's unease. "You'll get your samples." the Commander finally informed. "Sword is en-route to capture and sabotage. I want you and your team to move to Shanxi and prepare for the prisoners. First blood has been drawn by the enemy, I want them to suffer for the Navarro. This is the second time that we have been attacked by an alien power, and this time the counsel wants to make sure its the last."

"Commander?" Dr. Knives questioned.

"The Counsel has approved Project Entropy. You will be given a sample of the Thin Men D.N.A. sequence. Your job is to make sure the delivery system is ready within a week at the most." Commander Harper ended the transmission to the relief of his subordinate.

The man took a moment to collect himself, lighting a cigarette. Several monitors were displaying various streams of data. Multiple replays of the relay battle from the viewpoint of all three frigates, the all the Turian related data extracted from what the XCOM Scouts could bring back from across the galaxy, even rough estimates from the XCOM scientists. The commander's cigarette was nearly finished as he reviewed the data, the unsettling blue eyes darting back and forth, reading, watching, learning.

His nerves sufficiently settled, he opened a link to the Alliance counsel. "Counselors, " the commander began elegantly, "We are about to enter into a new war with an extraterrestrial force. Unlike one-hundred and fifty years ago we met them before they could land on our worlds."

Commander Harper's eyes let the thought linger, judging the Counselors reactions, right where he wanted them, "This time I want to ensure these aliens and anyone that knows them will fear humanity. I want to activate Project Entropy. When we have the location of a Turian world we will deploy the weapon, hopefully draining them of the will to fight back."

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Turian High Command was Upset and Desolas couldn't blame them. This incident was a black eye upon the entire Turian Hierarchy. Counselor Sparatus was furious enough to message him from the Citadel itself, his exact words were, "You hunt them down, you blast them from orbit, and you take them over. If the technology they showed is not just lies and fabrications you made to excuse your disgraceful failure you will get us samples! I want this matter settled before the Salarians and their spirits damned STG interfere!"

Sparatus' fury was evident, Palaven command was more subtle. The Turian Seventh Fleet was being assigned to his command, an entire Cohort of nearly five-hundred ships, including four more Dreadnoughts. Alongside this substantial reinforcement also came the unwanted addendum to his orders. It was dressed nicely in political and military terms but to sum it up for the common people it would be 'Bring back the lost ship and end the new species or don't bother coming home.'

Within two solar cycles the Turian Seventh fleet would arrive. Deep space probes had already scanned the nearby habitable planets. There was only one planet that couldn't be scanned, the probes destroyed before they could enter the planet's orbit: a garden world that was unclaimed by the Citadel.

War was coming and General Arterius was certain of victory. That was when fate struck and the ship shuddered from a hull puncture followed the buzzing sounds from dozens of other ships ringing in, reporting the same.

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The Alliance Stealth fighter landed on the outer hull of the Turian Dreadnought, barely making a thud as it was locked in place with magnetic clamps. Sword-01 linked minds before exiting the ship. The Psi technique allowed them to share senses allowing the six man squad to cover each others blind spots and work in perfect synchronization in an instant. In the void of space, they moved unseen to what was assumed to be a hatch to the ship.

The Prothean Titan Armor was equipped with the gear to survive in space, however there was limited oxygen. Even with the best filters and recycling system they had six hours to complete the mission and return to the ship. Time was of the essence.

Sword-01's heavy weapons specialist slammed a charge of C-12, the explosive ripping apart the hull with a blaze of greenish hellfire and plasma. The hole erupted with the white gas of atmosphere accompanied by several Turians gasping for air. Across the Turian patrol group, the same thing happened. XCOM Sword teams flushing hundreds of Turians into the void without remorse.

Sword-01's entry point entered into a large hallway, now filled with scorch marks and damaged walls. "Move in!" Anderson commanded mentally, "Terror wave." Psionic panic was a common skill that even the least Psi-gifted could use, in the hands of XCOM elite, it was the ultimate shock and awe technique.

Sword Team reached out in various directions with their psionics. Detected Turian minds were flooded with unending primal terror. A fiend from the abyss had ripped into their ships and nothing could save them. Images of Palaven burning, their loved ones torn to nothing more than defiled shreds. Maggots and insects burrowed beneath their flesh, acid poured from their insides. Images of the most harrowing and traumatic things the Turian crew could think of flashed repeatedly inside their minds. As If to spite their centuries of military discipline and tradition the force of pure terror ripped away at all they held dear, their minds torn apart by the limitless horror their minds could generate. Many of the Turians drew their own guns upon themselves to escape from themselves. Those not fortunate tried in vain to tear the images from their heads with any means they could: Slamming their heads against the walls or floor, digging into their eyes to shred their brains, the least fortunate used their own hands to strangle themselves.

The process was used dozens of times by each squad member, aiming for at least one Turian out of every detectable group. Every cluster of Turians on board the ship watched as without a perceivable cause, a teammate or friend would seize up screaming in unnatural fear before trying to kill themselves. Some were saved by being restrained, but that only made it worse as they screamed louder and louder at every sensation on their skin, every desperate calming word, ever attempt to ease their fear. Eventually even the healthiest Turian heart gave out as they were scared to death. The goal of the terror wave wasn't to kill the enemy. It was to demoralize them, and it was very effective.

Several bulkheads were dropping down to block the rest of the ship from the Insertion hole. In response two plasma grenades were launched, blasting the infiltrators way further into the ship. Four of Sword-01, including Anderson moved on, The heavy and An Assault remaining to hold the door, and prep the goodbye present.

With every bulkhead, Sword would blast past leaving a hole of melted slag and more Turian dead. Apparently the poor bastards couldn't breath is space. 'oh well.' the team thought, barely disappointed. Several more decks and dozens of plasma bursts went by before they encountered a Turian Guard smart enough to equip space suits. Anderson reached out with his mind, ripping control from two of the avian creatures. The First Jumped at the humans, dropping his weapon. The Second pressed the detonation switch for his grenade belt. The combined blast took his companions and tore another ragged hole to the void of space.

The Surviving Turian was quickly escorted back to the Ship, rendered unconscious by several overzealous shots from a stun gun.

With the priority task complete, Sword-01 was to ensure the escape route and prisoner were secure. It was David Anderson's time to shine.

As soon as humanity gained the gift of psychic abilities they looked for ways to make it work better. Mind shielding, Psychic Amplification Armor, Gene modification, mechanical and cybernetic augmentation. All of it were fine methods of making a psychic more powerful. The Psi-Volunteers knew the best way. Fury. Pure unrestrained anger. The red haze of rage prevented a break in willpower, never gave you a chance to second guess. When a Psi-Volunteer was given a task to destroy, they would focus their considerable psionic abilities on themselves, a self made mind control. All they did with it was stroke the hatred, the rage, and then point themselves at a target. Until they wore themselves out they would rampage, crush, rip, tear, and generally kill the enemy in any way they could.

The Turian Dreadnought shuddered from a telekinetic field expanding, as Anderson began psyching himself using a replica Ethereal Comm Sphere.. With a mental feedback looping anger in his head, Captain Anderson's mind reached out. Turians died by the dozen as their forces turned on each other. Brothers in blood and brothers in arms alike drew their guns and fired upon each other or in self defense. Across the Turian flotilla the psychic assault was made worse by the Psi-Volunteer's wide spread mental commands. Turian Commanders orders were compromised and rendered into gibberish. Turian Engineers turned upon the ships they were to maintain, tearing into the engines, life support systems. The medical teams tore into their supplies, poisoning hundreds of credits worth of medication to appeal to the whispers in their head. Only the strongest willed Turians withstood the mental assault, and stood against the chaos trying in vein to stop the madness from consuming them all.

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Biological warfare was the last thing that Desolas Arterius would expect a race of primitives to use, but the signs were there. Whatever the delivery system was, it must have been inserted at the moment the hulls registered a puncture. Shortly afterwords the Turians screaming themselves to death must have been the initial infection, the infection must not have taken properly in them. The madness spreading must be the weapon in effect! The few soldiers not compromised must have an immunity!

"Get me a line to Palaven High Command! Now! The Hierarchy needs this new Intel!" It was only luck that prevented the infiltrating sword teams from striking into the command deck. It was bad luck that the General was about to provide his superiors with incorrect information.

General Quentius was not pleased to see his besmirched comrade, "General Arterius, you better have very good news to contact us so soon."

"We have reason to believe the primitives we discovered at the 314 relay have attacked us with biological weapons. At least eighty percent of the flotilla's crew have been compromised, a large number have committed self mutilation or suicide." to emphasize his point Arterius began streaming several video feeds from the flotilla's command ships, images of Turians firing at each other, and several clawing themselves open startled the normally unshakable Generals.

"By the Spirits..." gasped more than a few. "How many ships have been compromised?"

Arterius shook his head, "Unknown, most communication is down between the ships. I've already triggered a remote lock down, on all ships. I can't prove it but we believe there are infiltrators on-board Palaven's might and that they are sabotaging the quarantine. We need reinforcement, medical ships if possible. The Command deck is secure, but if there are infiltrators on board I'm not sure if the defenses will be enough."

"We will reinforce you with the Tenth and Eleventh fleets. Your orders remain unchanged. These newcomers are a threat, and need to be reined in as a client race of the Hierarchy. You are to capture their world of origin, no matter the cost." Over fifteen hundred ships were now assigned to take on the primitives including several dreadnaughts. These soil sucking primitives didn't have a chance.


	3. The Battle for Shanxi, Part One

Commander Jack Harper had a habit he performed every day without fail. Harper was a creature of habit, mostly due to his work. At five o'clock in the morning, Earth Standard time, he would wake up. Half an hour was spent reviewing any transmissions, mission reports or other messages he would receive overnight. After that another half hour would be spent preparing for the day: cleaning, dressing, and eating. Then he would head for the memorial.

In the year twenty sixteen, when XCOM was first founded as desperate move to combat the Ethereal army, the soldiers of XCOM had created a small shrine to their fallen comrades. In the beginning it was little more than pictures hung over a dresser in the barracks. As the number of fallen rose, the set of pictures grew until an entire wall was covered. The war was long and the losses were immense. No matter how well the XCOM teams performed, it seemed there was at least one death a day. Sometimes a team would fail, and no-one would return.

When Luna was converted to XCOM's headquarters and Humanity's primary starport the little wall was remade into a grand memorial. Reminiscent of the American Lincoln memorial, it was a grand chamber with the names of the fallen thousands who served in XCOM. Not just those who died in combat, but those who died from old age or illness. The names and images of each member was enshrined, never to be forgotten.

Commander Harper's habit was that he would enter the memorial every day, and spend one hour every day reading the names of those who served in the past. He would memorize every detail, their names and faces. It was his motivation, his driving force. When he stood in the room he felt the souls of the honored dead judging him, leading him, and urging him. Pre-war paranormal fans believed that a psychic could speak to the dead, that they could call out to those who had passed on and use their knowledge to aid the living. When humanity gained psychic powers that vaunted ability was quickly debunked. Jack Harper still liked to believe however.

The commander was only twelve minutes into his daily ritual when the communications piece in his ear began buzzing, with narrowed eyes the only sign of his annoyance, he switched on the link. "Central, give me an update on Shanxi."

"Commander we have received word from the forces stationed at Shanxi. Alien ships have been detected in the system. We count only fifteen hundred ships, five of them are around twenty-two hundred meters in length. They match our Intel for Turian dreadnaughts, the rest are around thirteen-hundred to sixteen hundred meters. Intel suggests that the largest are Turian style carriers and medical ships the others are battle-cruisers."

Jack Harper lit one of his trademark cigarettes, swiftly walking out of the memorial, "Whats the status of Shanxi's defensive fleet?"

"Shanxi's Archangel Network is active and ready, the Particle beams are set to intercept any landing forces mid-air. The First and Second Fleets have arrived and are prepared. Psi-ops teams are ready to form the merge when needed. With Shanxi's personal fleets in place we have eleven-thousand two-hundred and fifty six ships combat ready. One hundred Dreadnaughts of various levels are combat ready."

The commander took in a long draw from his cigarette. "What about the evacuation plans? Are the civilians ready in case the Turians do secure a landing zone?"

"Commander, the civilians are ready but I don't think-"

"You don't think. You relay reports to me. "Harper cut him off, crushing the remains of his Cigarette into ruin, "We have been caught by surprise already and I will not allow our people to die or be trapped in a war zone because we felt superior! The moment even a half-dead Turian enters Shanxi's atmosphere the Civilians will be evacuated and on their way to Mars."

"Understood, Commander." the central officer replied meekly.

"Glad you understand. What's the Status of the capture and infiltration teams?"

"Perfect mission across the board commander. No losses in any of the teams, and Dr. Knives has ninety-seven Turians captured and in containment."

"If we had a perfect mission, how do we only have ninety-seven instead of one hundred?" The commander questioned, not angry but curious.

"According to the reports over a dozen Turians attempted suicide during transport. The teams had a difficult time keeping the prisoners sedated or properly restrained. During the transfer into the Science Vessel, the Athena's Pride, Several Turians made a last ditch escape attempt and seized a grenade. Eight were injured in the blast, three died from their wounds."

"Has the autopsy on the corpses been completed?"

"Yes sir, Dr. Knives team has already started development on two new gene mods based on what they could learn from the Turian's DNA. The Doctor wanted to wait for confirmation before he started employing any interrogation methods."

"They attacked without cause or provocation. Tell Knives that I'm approving use of both Advanced and Psychic Interrogation. No limits. They have critical information we need." The commander's face held a small grin, "Besides Human rights only apply to humans after all."

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Saren Arterius was in pain. Turian soldiers were trained to resist pain in various forms, but this was just monstrous. Saren struggled against his restraints with what little strength he had left. His body was bound to a large slab with massive metal restraints on his feet, hands, and waist. Rather than like straps or cuffs the restraints completely sealed what they held and allowed no room for movement. The imprisonment didn't end there. Dozens of needles were inserted into Saren's body, not just under the skin, but into the muscles and bones as well. The primitives that stuck them in were not gentle nor kind, several times Saren passed out from the pain. The needles were attached to various cords, some clear and hollow, others were attached to metal cords. All of the cords ran back to the walls of his cell.

Several times a primitive would activate the lights in the cell and look in at him using a slot in the door. They didn't enter. They didn't respond when he yelled for answers. This was not how a civilized species fought! Chemical or biological weapons and cruel interrogations were banned by the Citadel! Didn't these primitives know anything?

For the first time since he awoke, Saren's cell opened. The door slid into the wall, allowing a white cloth clad primitive to enter. The primitive was thin, and when it moved the light chime of metal rang out from its sides. Saren eyed the area, was the primitive carrying knives or a projectile weapon? The primitive examined the needles and restraints, picking at a few causing a stinging pain in Saren's limbs.

The primitive made a show of searching it's clothes for an item. With a flair the primitive pulled out an Omni-Tool, one of Turian design, before slipping it on it's wrist. "Hello there, can you understand me?" It asked.

Saren's mandibles widened in disbelief, "Primitive... How...?"

The mouth of the primitive widened. "How did I use this Omni-tool? We've been collecting data on your species for some time. Surprisingly for a self-proclaimed 'advanced species' you Turians are absolutely dreadful when it comes to Cyberwarfare. No wonder the Salarians' STG keep succeeding in spying on you."

Saren felt a cold chill of fear wash down his spine. The primitives knew far more than they should. "What do you want?" Saren croaked out, weakly.

The alien made a short repeating noise that Saren would bet was an indicator of amusement, "First, let me introduce myself. My name is Doctor Kevin Sebastian Knives. I am the Head of the XCOM Research and Development. My Job is simple, learn everything I can about any alien species humanity will encounter."

"What does a scientist want with me? I'm just a soldier." Saren groaned out, it hurt to talk, but if he could steer the conversation he could learn some critical Intel and try to escape and report it back to the Hierarchy.

"You misunderstand. I'm not just a scientist, I'm also an interrogation specialist." The primitive made the noise again, "You see, I know you intend to act defeated, and intend to try to escape to alert your hierarchy. I just want to make it clear: you will not escape, you will not resist, and you will tell me what I want to know. It's all a matter of how much you want to hurt before you answer."

Saren prepared to launch a wad of spit at his captor, but before the drool could do more than gather all of Saren's senses became pain. He heard colors as the taste of burning assaulted his mouth. Saren was more aware of the needles in his skin as they became silver worms that burrowed and bred in his flesh. Turians were trained to resist pain, but as Saren quickly determined, this was beyond pain. The Turian mind was only meant to endure so much, before shattering and Saren's was quickly reaching the point of madness.

Just as the insanity began, it cut off. Saren's ragged breathing was the only noise in the cell, sweat poured from his clammy flesh. "How do you like it?" The scientist primitive asked, the amused tone still present, "My 'mind-fray' technique isn't as destructive as one of the other Volunteers, however I have much greater control over it."

"What?" Saren gasped, his brain ached like never before, even having his skull squeezed by a Krogan warlord didn't hurt as much, "What was that?"

The primitives' mouth tightened, the eyes narrowed, "You don't listen well do you Saren? My species have advanced mental abilities. A side effect of a previous war. Think of it like an Asari's meld, just no touching, and with a much wider variety of applications. You shouldn't try to spit on me, do it again, and you'll undergo the technique again. If your alien fluids manage to touch any part of me, I assure you that you will beg me for the technique before I'm done with you."

Saren's fear nearly consumed him right then. What in the name of the Spirits had they done?

"Now," the primitives commanded, his flesh glowing with a violet aura, "Tell me about your people..."

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General Williams was alert and prepared. The Turian invaders were on route to Shanxi and the Alliance fleet was in a loose blockade formation. When the Turians arrived they would be crushed. Over ten thousand battleships held position above Shanxi, the Archangel network was calibrated to disable any Turian ships that came within range.

Williams sat in the command seat of the Flagship, Gaia's Shield, The five kilometer Super-carrier carried little more than basic defensive weapons, the Shield's real threat was The Six-thousand unmanned Hellfire interceptors. The Drone fighters were armed with a wider variety than their maned counterpart, Without the need for the cockpit the Hellfire drones were loaded with two plasma cannons, two dual laser cannons, an EMP cannon and a Mass accelerator Fusion Lance. The drones were only lightly armored, but their maneuverability was unmatchable.

Intel from XCOM had been pouring in after the capture of the Turian prisoners. According to the Intel, the Turian fleet held only three advantages: longer range, the shield piercing ammo, and rate of fire. While the Turians couldn't fight one on one , if they played defensive and focused fire the Alliance would take some real damage before the battle was over. The main gun on a Turian Dreadnaught would be able to decimate any Alliance ship long before it got into range.

"Victory, How long until the Turians are expected to arrive?" Williams asked, addressing the Ship AI.

The Primary combat AI, Victory, responded instantly from the Command deck speakers, "At their current pace, the Turian ships are ten minutes away. Forward scouts are detecting active energy emissions, it is believed they are on route with weapons active. "

"Victory, What's the status of XCOM's going away present?" Williams questioned, bombs hidden in an enemy fleet would be incredibly useful. If they were still active.

"According to the Hyperwave transmissions, all one hundred packages are still functioning properly and awaiting the detonation signal." Victory informed.

"Send the order to the fleet, all ships to battle stations, we have incoming hostiles. All Dreadnaughts are to focus on disabling the enemy dreadnaughts. Any and all Psi-operatives available and in range are to use terror tactics. Carriers are to launch all interceptors and target the enemy engines in five! I want all cruisers and frigates to make destroying any and all ships that appear to be deploying ground forces. I don't want a single drop of Turian blood to touch Shanxi's pure soil!"

"Affirmative, commander."

Orders Sent out, the General sat back in his seat, his mind reaching out to his crew. The mind merge was a skill poorly used by the Sectoid shock troops during the Ethereal war, but with a century of training the Alliance used it to its greatest potential. Across the Alliance armada, the commanding officers started linking their minds with the crew of their ships, who would link their thoughts with the others. Within seconds, the crew of each ship was linked by a hive mind. Thoughts, orders and status reports were sent and received with the speed of thought.

Guns were loaded, targeting computers were calibrated, engines activated, and other preparations completed. A threat was coming and the Alliance was prepared.

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Alliance Interception squadron Eagle-04 led by Captain Stephen Hiller was the first to encounter the Turian forces. The sleek silver disks swimming across the void at their targets. The dual pilot system was designed for one pilot, one gunner, the two would merge minds during combat, allowing a wider range of view and increase the likelihood they would survive the battle.

"Boys," Captain Hiller addressed his comrades, "For the second time in mankind's history we are under attack by an alien force. Our boys in XCOM had the joy of terrorizing these bastards, but they ignored that warning and are on their way to attack our home. I say we sent these bastards packing! Eagles! Take down their engines! Focus fire on the command ships! Send these alien motherfuckers to hell!"

The Turian defensive lasers were designed for short range ship to ship combat, not shoot down speeding interceptors. The Eagles attack run ran down the length of the closest dreadnaught, the lasers doing no more damage than a bee sting to an elephant. The small ships targeted the defensive turrets, working to disable the giant ships before they met the fleet. Captain Hiller wasn't happy with the combat data coming in. Despite the speed and maneuvers of their craft they were already reporting losses. Eagle-04 still had twenty-four out of twenty-four, however other squads like Wolf-07 were almost entirely wiped out.

The engines of the Turian dreadnaughts were as massive as the ships they moved, making them easy targets for the Alliance Hellfires. Like furious hornets the fighters rushed in, drilling into the hull with the metal melting lasers. Seconds past as minutes as the interceptors were shot down by Turian lasers and mass accelerator rounds. Several small explosions erupted from the damaged engines, yet the dreadnaughts showed no signs of slowing at all. "Eagles keep focusing on the engines! Command wants the command ships out of the fight!" Hiller commanded, "Wolf teams, get those defensive turrets off our back!"

"Captain Hiller!" one of the Eagles reported in, "The Dreadnaughts are breaking off with a set of cruisers! They're moving to cut us off from the rest of the fleet!"

"Confirm, how many are breaking away?"

"Captain, Fifty cruisers at least! The rest are still on route to Shanxi!"

Captain Hiller opened a line to the "Command, we have intercepted the targets, however the majority of the enemy fleet is en route to Shanxi. We count at least one thousand vessels. Maybe more."

General Williams was not pleased by that news, "Are the Dreadnaughts disabled?"

"Negative, Sir." Hiller replied, dodging another burst from a mass accelerator, "The dreadnaught's armor is too thick. Are lasers are penetrating, however we just aren't doing enough damage. The majority of the dreadnought's rear defensive guns are destroyed however."

"Captain, those dreadnaughts cannot enter this fight." The general scowled, "target the command deck if you have to, but those ships will put too much at risk!"

"Understood General." Captain Hiller changed frequencies from command to the interceptors, "Orders from command, the dreadnaughts cannot enter the fight at full speed. The engines must be taken out, all forces are to make attack runs on the dreadnaughts. Hit and run boy and girls! All squadrons focus fire on my target!"

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When the Turians were within range, the Alliance was ready. A charge was led by the six-thousand drones of the Gaia's shield, the VI systems targeting aiming for the defenses of the invaders, weakening them for the rest of the charge. The Alliance dreadnaughts were making a slow charge, with their targets hidden behind the line there weapons were brought to bear upon any who would came close to Shanxi, their ship long fusion lances charged and prepared to obliterate anything that crossed the battlefield.

The Alliance cruisers outnumbered their enemy ten to one, and the advantage of numbers was not enough to negate the Turian's weaponry. As the cruisers approached hundreds of the disruptor rounds shattered shields and scarred ships, several were struck down before Alliance artillery could fire upon their foes. Once the cannons were in range, the battle became much more active. Turian ships knew the enemy's weapons would pierce them, and took the only path they thought they had: moving between the enemy ships forcing them to cease fire or risk hitting there own vessels.

Before the Turian vessels could fully enter the Alliance line, the forty-six infiltrated Turian warships had a sudden and unfortunate explosion devastate the inside of their hulls. The detonation of a small yield nuclear device inside a pressurized hull. The shock waves from the blast disrupted the navigation systems of the nearby Turian allies, crippling shields and armor alike. Several desperate captains rammed their dying hulls into the Alliance defenders. The Alliance formations had no choice but to separate or be torn apart by the fallen ship's debris field.

With the tight defensive formations separated a dozen ships were picked off by concentrated disruptor fire. The Turians had no chance of winning, but they put up one hell of a fight. They used the debris field as a shield, sticking to the sides of the Alliance vessels and forcing them to fire upon each other to get at the less plentiful Turian vessels. With all of the debris and swerving, the Alliance VI's and targeting computers were making errors striking friendlies. They could only calculate for so much before mistakes were made. For every ten shots, three would miss, potentially striking their allies. Exactly what the Turians wanted. As long as the Alliance vessels had their shields they couldn't harm each other, and the Turians settled the issue with disruptor rounds, keeping the Alliance vessels unshielded, allowing friendly fire to do the damage they couldn't themselves.

With the Turians at such close range the advantage of laser weapons was negated. The Turian lasers were quicker and more numerous, melting whatever armor the mass accelerator rounds couldn't pierce. The well trained soldiers of the Hierarchy were fighting a losing battle and did whatever they could to inflict damage upon those they saw beneath them.

By this point the Turian's hit and swerve tactics were all they had. The moment they moved away from the Alliance ships, they would be destroyed by the waiting lances of the Alliance Dreadnaughts. The three-hundred dreadnaughts still remained untouched by the battle, hovering over Shanxi like a shield. Commanding officers waited patiently, the Turian tactics were clever, but they lacked the numbers and firepower necessary to reach their goal. It would take time, but Shanxi would not fall yet.

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"Central, this is Captain Stephen Hiller, the mission is a failure, the dreadnaughts are moving towards Shanxi! I repeat the Dreadnaughts are moving towards Shanxi!"

Superior evasions could only keep you alive for so long, and without superior numbers to cause panic, the Alliance interceptors were dying fast. The Dreadnaught's guns were lethal by themselves, but when you had to swerve around constantly moving cruisers that focused everything they had on moving you down the death rate increased dramatically. Fighters were shot down by the rapid firing mass accelerators. From the thousands they started with barely a few dozen were left.

With teams dropping like flies Captain Hiller had a mad idea, it was suicide whether it worked or not. "Jimmy, " Hiller addressed his gunner, "Remember what they tell you about not overloading the Elerium Generator?"

Jimmy chuckled, "It's been a pleasure working with you Captain. Overloading the core now. You've got fifty seconds to get us somewhere good!"

Hiller turned on his Comms. "Boys and girls, if this does anything Overload your Elerium cores and dive in to the nearest Dreadnaught!"

Miller's fighter dove steeply, the hull of his targeted dreadnaught had several openings near the engines and the shields had long shattered under the interceptor's combined firepower. The hellfire swooped and swerved, dodging the furious shots of the Turian vessels. Captain Miller knew how he wanted to go out with style. Dodging alien fire with a mad idea to suicide bomb the enemy with a beyond nuclear explosion was definitely a way to go.

The Hellfire ripped into the hull, piercing what little remained and tore past several decks, coming to rest next to a giant glowing blue orb. Hundreds of pipes led from the device. Heller's mind reached out to his remaining comrades, giving them a rough hint where to hit. A chance for dramatic last words was blocked by the blood filling his lungs.

A Turian was staring at him in shock, having rushed in to determine the cause of the noise. Miller flipped him off as his fighter exploded.

The Overloading Elerium core explosion, caused the Element zero core to detonate amplifying the already nuclear explosion. The Turian dreadnaught was atomized, the force of the blast flinging all nearby ships aside. The Turian dreadnaughts were large and armored enough to withstand the blast wave. Cruisers took major damage, but were still capable of fighting, but the interceptors were ripped apart by the distortions.

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Primarch Fedorian was not a happy leader. Live-streams from The battle with the Primitives was showing disastrous results. The dreadnaughts were being outmaneuvered and taking damage from a large number of fighters, the thousand ships sent in were getting destroyed, and they were losing. This was a travesty! For nearly two thousand years the Turians were the pinnacle of military might in the galaxy, and now some no name dirtball primitives who had barely traversed the stars were beating them! It didn't matter that they had Ten thousand ships! The Turians should have crushed them in the opening salvo then taken the planet with no resistance!

Fedorian sent a command to Palaven command. All available fleets were to head for the 314 relay and reinforce the fleets already in combat, the Primarch signed the order as a priority command. The nearest fleet was the fifteenth, which was two hours away. At that rate the primitives might actually have won and regrouped! Fury was clouding his mind, but this disgrace had to be corrected.


	4. The Battle for Shanxi, Part Two

When your defending against an invading army with victory in sight, there are few things that can ruin your impending victory, most of them meaning a disaster is at hand. "General Williams!" The operations watch officer called out in panic, "The Relay has gone active, a large number of enemy ships have entered the system and are en-route to our location!"

"How many ships?"

"Too many for the sensors to pick up, they're moving in faster than we can scan them. From what the sensors can determine they are Turian ships!" The man paused, rechecking his screen, "Sir, the relay is still active, the its still pouring out ships!"

The general was not pleased by the news."Warn all ships in the system, and signal Shanxi order all ground defense forces to prepare for invasion."

"Sir, should we order the civilian evacuation?"

"Send the evacuation order, get as many out of here before the bastards arrive. Command has ordered that civilian losses are unacceptable. Send word to Earth, the Turians are reinforcing." The general reached out to his crew, reinforcing their will and easing their nerves. The impending reinforcements would make the battle more even but humanity would still win.

"Send word to the cruisers and carriers. Friendly fire is allowed, get those evasive bastards out of the way and regroup. All carriers are to launch all remaining interceptors in defensive formations. All ships with nuclear artillery are to prepare missiles for launch. Use of Self detonation devices is now approved. All ships are to make avoiding capture a priority. The enemy might try to overwhelm us with numbers, but we're not going without a fight."

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The news of Turian reinforcements was not unexpected by XCOM. Aboard the AXV Malice ,Dr. Knives had been increasingly through with his interview of the Turians. All aspects of Turian strategy, military power, and the chain of command were pulled out of the captives bit by bit. When one of the Doctor's victims fainted, or expired the next in line was reviewed. Each of the captives was a different level of command, and knew different details of the invaders' plans and tactics. One Turian was different from the rest, and therefore the Doctor's favorite.

Saren Arterius, the dearly loved brother of the Turian General leading the invasion forces. A perfect hostage, prisoner, and source of information.

Being the brother of a General gave Saren access to information that was very valuable to his captors. Unlike the rest, Saren was actually being treated for the various injuries and drugs he was subjected to. The rest of the Turians were test subjects as well as prisoners. After all, XCOM scientists couldn't perfect the art of killing Turians without a few to experiment on, and Dr. Knives loved to experiment on alien subjects. For nearly eighty years Knives had to use cloned versions of the Ethereal army, but Turians were something new, and there was still so much to learn about them.

As the Alliance fought and Turians died, both sides preparing for a much larger conflict, The XCOM Doctor was busy performing a vivisection of a Turian lieutenant, humming merrily in a psychotic synchronization with the prisoner's screams. The sadistic scientist made a few gestures with a free hand, opening a direct comm line to the Commander, "Sir, We have a small problem with Project Entropy." Knives said calmly, raising his voice over the still screaming alien strapped to the table in front of him, the old man's steady hands continued to cut as talked to his superior.

The commander eyed the cut up Turian with disgust, "What problem Doctor?"

Knives sighed, applying an injection to his patient, who ceased screaming as his vocal cords paralyzed. "The Thin man's venom isn't as potent as we hoped. I've tested it on several Turians, each with various compromises and still it does little more than give them a difficult case of the flu. I'd be excited if I wasn't so disappointed. As it is, even in massive numbers this would be little more than a demoralizing weapon, not the planet cleaner that Entropy calls for."

Commander Harper sighed, this was expected, but certainly not desired. "Can you use the Thin Man DNA for anything else? Perhaps an infiltrator like the Ethereal used against us?"

"It would be Possible," Knives thought aloud, "however it would take months. We'd need to create replica Turian tools, armor, and we'd need At least one psi-operative within close range to keep it under control and pilot properly. Right now, without more data on Turian culture it's not viable."

"The Turians are sending reinforcements to Shanxi, right now it looks like the defensive force will be overwhelmed. As of right now, covering the evacuation of the civilians is XCOM's priority. All XCOM units are to suspend other projects, unless the Alliance units are overwhelmed, then I want you to activate the Ethereal Network. All Psi-Volunteers are to use base disruption tactics."

"Sir, I've received word from General Williams. The use of Self Detonation devices has been approved."

Harper paused, thinking. "We don't have enough intelligence on Turian technology, the last thing we need them to get is the link-less relay system. It is regrettable, but it is a smart move." The XCOM Commander opened another link, this one to General Williams. "General, I know this is unorthodox, but I have a request for you."

Williams nodded at his fellow officer. "What do you need Harper?"

Jack Harper lit one of his trademark cigarettes, "I would request that all the Alliance Military vessels wipe their databanks of all entries related to the Sol System. I'm not saying I believe your ships will get captured, but we cannot allow the enemy to have any chance to locate our homeland. If Shanxi is lost, Earth cannot be at risk."

Williams nodded, in a situation like this any risk was unacceptable, "Agreed. I take it the Doctor has told you that self destruct protocols are in order?"

Harper took a draw on his cancer stick, letting the smoke drift out of his mouth, "He has. I take it you would be glad to know that while Turian armor is thick and blocks a good number of projectiles, a close range nuclear blast would decimate their ships and disrupt their systems for a short while. It would be a little more than a desperation move, but it could change the tide if any of your ships steered into their fleet before detonating."

"I will, consider that tactic, " Williams said, hesitantly, "Is XCOM going to aid us?"

"Partially. XCOM's priority is the civilians. Once the evacuation is complete, they are to reinforce you with using every disruption trick we have. The Alliance Counsel has ordered all non-defensive fleets to regroup in the Sol system. With the new data they are growing increasingly concerned that Shanxi will be lost-"

"Shanxi will not fall!" The General yelled, losing his calm, "Even if they outnumber us a thousand to one, we will crush them!"

"I understand General," Harper said charmingly, "However, command wants to prepare for the what if's. Even with the relay, Shanxi is a day away, we cannot reinforce you in time."

"Gaia's Shield is already rebuilding the drones lost in the initial engagements, and the last of the invaders are being shot down or regrouping with the next wave. They have barely touched the fleet."

"I hope you are right General. Harper Out." The Commander stated, cutting the link, "Knives, how effective would information warfare tactics work on the Turians?"

"They're about sixty years behind us. They use individual VI systems instead of networking them, some garbage about outlawing Artificial intelligences. So our VI attacks should work to some degree."

"Good. What is the condition of the prisoner named..." Harper gazed at one of his many screens off camera, "Saren?"

"Ah, my pet!" Knives exclaimed, "He's currently undergoing his seventh round of drug treatments. I assume you want me to make him presentable?"

"No, just the opposite in fact. As long as he can talk clearly and show signs of life. Prepare to send a transmission to the Turian fleets and prep a dozen of the prisoners for a messy execution as an example. I want to have a stalling tactic in case things go south."

"I suppose I should patch this up, then get to work then." Knives replied, drawing a needle and thread out of pocket.

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Saren was wishing for pain. It would be better than the world he was in now. The cords kept pumping in drugs, the screams of his fellow Turians rang in his ears. If he had the strength, the young Captain would tear himself from his bindings and bleed to death. The monsters that held him were clever. He was bound far to tightly to escape, or to even move.

There was no hope. He was their hostage, unlike the rest, he knew his value to his keepers. Saren had felt them pull the memories from his mind. They would use him as a shield, and his brother Desolas, the sentimental fool, would ignore command and halt any assault if it would see Saren safe.

Not for the first time and certainly not the last Saren tried to wiggle out of his bindings, to open his wounds, to do something besides lay back and be used. The monsters were clever. If Saren started to bleed too much more drugs would be forced into his veins, sealing his wounds and dulling his mind.

Still he struggled, his mind hazy.

He had to be free.

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General Desolas Arterius could not have been more relieved when the reinforcements arrived. Twelve thousand of the hierarchy's best and finest warships ready for war. His dreadnaught, Palaven's might, was swarmed with field repair ships, the tiny vessels hard at work repairing damage inflicted by the Alliance interceptors. The general was quickly transferred to the new command ship, the Turian dreadnaught Sanctuary. The twenty-five thousand meter long command ship carried the largest armament of any vessel of the Turian fleet, including a five-hundred meter long rapid fire mass-accelerator called 'the talon'.

The moment he stepped aboard several officers approached, each awaiting orders, "I want all ships to have disruptor rounds loaded, The enemy ships have poor long range capabilities. To prevent them us from taking massive losses, we will keep our distance. All ships will focus fire in squads, except for the dreadnaughts. Once the engines are repaired they will take down any pests."

"Sir," cut in a younger officer, "What about the enemy dreadnaughts?"

"They've been working as the planet's last line of defense, only attacking when our ships get within their range. Just one shot of their lasers will cripple if not destroy our cruisers. Command has ordered us to subjugate this species and make them a client race. They have already broken several laws of the Citadel Council Including activating a mass relay without permission and using biological weapons."

"Once the enemy fleet is crippled, " Desolas continued, "We will begin an orbital bombing on the planet. These creatures have shown that they are as devoted to war as we are. However scans of the planet and ships show that we greatly outnumber them. There has been no reinforcement from the relays, so thus far we believe that this is their planet of origin."

"That's one hell of a way to make first contact. " One officer remarked to another.

Desolas glared in the direction of the comment, "Ignorance of the law is no excuse for breaking it! Whomever made that remark, come forward now!"

The officer in question nervously approached, weary of his superior's ire. "Tell me Captain, which is preferred? War with the Rachni or war with a species that has barely three hundred million on their origin world?"

"The newcomers, sir." The captain said, hesitantly.

"Exactly. For all we know they could have opened a door to our extinction. As it was perhaps we wouldn't have bothered from there, a force sent out to tell them of what happened and why. However, they struck next. A cowardly attack, poisoning our people with biological weapons and terrorist techniques! We still can't account for all our dead!" The general yelled with venomous passion, "Even now they continue on their warmongering ways! Before we could even offer them a chance to surrender they attack us again causing severe damage to our fleets and destroying a dreadnaught! This may be their first conflict, but with the way they act it may damn well be their last!"

The officer looked ashamed, "Understood, sir." He said, submissively

"Good, you've volunteered to command some of the ground assaults. I expect that there will be results!"

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"General, we are almost within range of Turian firing range!"

The view on the Combat Information Center was almost a mirror image of what it had been earlier. Where before it had barely been a thousand ships against the Alliance, there were now several thousands with more coming in by the minute. The machines monitoring the relay were still reporting activations as more vessels poured into Shanxi's system. The advantage of numbers was quickly ended, with only the advantage of heavier firepower remaining.

"All carriers launch interceptors!" General Williams commanded fiercely, "Dreadnaughts are to focus on enemy command ships, cripple them and then support any carriers that are in peril. Ship to ship boarding techniques are to be used if at all possible. Cruisers are to focus on on on one tactics, and target their main guns. Frigates and other support ships are to use hit an run tactics. Any ship that is under threat of capture or destruction is to use Kamikaze protocol, the enemy cannot be allowed to gain any information!"

The remaining thousands of Alliance interceptors swarmed from the hulls of their hosts, the pilots inside preparing for their death and preparing to take as many Turians with them as possible. Using the late Captain Hiller's combat info, many pilots psyched themselves to plunge into the enemy vessels for a effective kill.

Soldiers aboard Alliance cruisers prepared for treacherous jumps across a war zone, protected by little more than the orbital drop pods that were prepped by MEC Engineers as fast as their robotic arms would move. The drop pods would be aimed at any damaged Turian vessel hopefully allowing the soldiers to infiltrate and disable them from the inside.

Frigates were armed with hastily loaded nuclear armaments. Their quicker speed was the key to the battle, while enemy forces fought to a stalemate the selected Frigates would fire at any section where the Alliance was losing. Before the Turians could pass the nuclear blast would cripple both sides by the hundreds.

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The fleet wide mind merge activated and the Alliance ships charged the Turians at few speed, denying them them long range advantage within a minute. Using the reckless move a few ships misjudged the distance and slammed into the invaders, the crew following the plan and self destructing shortly after impact.

The suicide bombing of dozens of their ships stunned the Turians, it was a deadly hesitation that allowed the defending fleet precious seconds of opening fire. Piercing lasers and streams of plasma scarred the hulls of hundreds of Turian vessels, an unlucky dozen were swarmed and destroyed by the swift interceptors.

The Turian counterattack was brutal, their defensive turrets tore into the hulls of any Alliance ship the moment the target lost its barrier from numerous disruptor rounds. Hundreds of alliance cruisers fell to barrages of concentrated fire, and the giant cannons of the Turian dreadnaughts cleaved dozens of cruisers with or without their shields.

With the majority of the defending fleet preoccupied with the bulk of the Turian force, the invading frigates ignored the fight and swooped towards the planet with the cargo of thousands of Turian troopers prepared to subjugate the lesser species. The Archangel network fired upon hundreds of Turian drop-ships, the fusion lances shredding the light armor warships. The Turian pilots were prepared, many playing dummy and floating past the debris of their fallen before resuming their decent to the planet below.

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Captain Anderson was normally a patient man. Tried not to swear, never let his anger get the best of him (outside of work), and tried to be a good person.

However the Turians' unwillingness to just lay down and die was swiftly pissing him off. For what seemed like the millionth time after he got the alert, his mind was ripping into a Turian's and shredding the inside to a swift brain death. "Seventy-Seven!" he called out, rushing at another cluster of Turians freshly unloaded from their damaged ship.

Beside the captain a dozen of XCOM's finest were hacking, slashing, stabling, and shooting the various flavors of Turian infantry that descended to their death. While the Shanxi defense force protected the civilian evacuation zones, XCOM troops swept the cities for any whom had been left behind. Along the way dozens of Turian soldiers were slain with devastating efficiency. While in space the mass accelerator cannons were capable of doing serious harm against the Prothean-Titan Armor, the Turian infantry weapons did nothing at all to Alliance infantry armor.

The sand sized fragments might be devastating against other species, but Human infantry were prepared for it. That preparation showed on the faces of thousands of Turian troops as XCOM troops tossed them aside like paper, and ripped into them with absolute ease. The XCOM troopers dodged grenade blasts, walked thru gunfire and could outmatch a Turian soldier in any mode of combat. The advanced gene-mods of XCOM's elite made what was expected to be a devastating ground war into total overkill.

The Turians had known about the ship size energy weapons, but was utterly shocked that the technology was equipped on the infantry as well. Shots from the turret mounted VI aimed Gatling lasers mowed into anything alien on approach tearing Turian ships out of the air and cutting them to seared ribbons on the ground. Bursts of plasma cooked Turians alive, the armor melting into slag and eating into their flesh the unlucky few to not die from metal melting into them were sent to the afterlife after a few eternities of pain by a second shot to the face. Command had been clear, if a Turian landed on Shanxi, they had to die.

And die they did.

Turian tanks were ripped open by shredder missiles, Turian infantry outmatched by the defenders, Turian commandos slain by their XCOM counterparts. In all aspects of ground warfare the Turians were quickly confirmed as overwhelmed. Their best tactics were ripped out of the minds of their commanders and used against them. Turian transmissions were intercepted and used against the invaders who still believed they had a chance. While the bulk of the forces survived the defense net, covering the planet they died shortly after at the hands of the very pissed off humans.

When the calls for a retreat were sounded, many teams couldn't receive it, the comm officers and commanders had been the priority targets of a quickly demoralized invasion force. The surviving members of the Turian forces quickly realized that not only was it a mistake to attack, but that it marked the end of their thousand years of military superiority.


	5. Shanxi's Fall

The Alliance Counsel were not happy with the events underway in Shanxi's orbit. Counselors from multiple Colony worlds, and the Seed worlds of Mars and Shanxi were in session on Earth. Many of them were concerned over the hostile start to what appeared to be another inter-species war. The red tape loving politicians had plenty of questions and demands over the incident. Several smarter representatives were sitting back and watching their more vocal coworkers with disdain and annoyance. The problem with democratically elected politicians of all sorts remained the same for hundreds of years, the best candidate was never elected. Only the most popular.

Jack Harper eyed them all with boredom and mild amusement. While they panicked and bickered amongst themselves the commander was inputting commands into a tablet at an impressive pace for a human without cybernetic limbs. The machine in his hands was filled with incoming data from transmitters on the battlefield and on the planet of discussion. As politics wasted time Harper kept busy imputing commands to field operatives, directing forces to proper areas, and authorizing several prohibited tactics and stratifies. Only vaguely did he pay any attention he was waiting for one counselor in particular to lose his temper before intervening.

Leading the counselors calling for blood and wartime preparation was retired Brigadier General Frank Hummel, a native of Shanxi and their lead representative. "Why are we not sending the rest of the fleet to reinforce the defenders at Shanxi? My people are losing their homes because you want to be goddamned careful?" Commander Harper smiled, clocks could be set by the retired general's temper.

"General Hummel, " Harper said, standing in front of the Counsel, "you know as well as I that what is happening is what is best for Shanxi. The Turians have adapted quickly to our strategies, and while we are equipped to handle any and all ground forces they have the fact is that they have fleet superiority and that any forces will have similar disadvantages."

The retired general clenched his teeth, Harper and Hummel were in a cold war with each other at the best of times and now was not that time. "If that's the case, why isn't XCOM providing support to the fleet? Surely by now you have several of your minions doing your bidding planet side?"

Harper calmly lit a cigarette, the action alone appeared to be driving the already irritated counselor up the wall, "XCOM is currently focusing all efforts in protecting the evacuation effort and performing search and destroy runs on any Turian ground forces. In short: protecting 'your people.'" Harper exhaled a stream of smoke and activated a holographic display of the battle, "The Turian's have our fleet topped in several ways. Range. Penetrating Power. Rate of Fire. Finally, reaction time."

One of the younger leaders, a representative of a colony on one of the moon worlds, raised a hand nervously, "Just how are they topping our reaction times? Surely they can't out think our troops when they meld?"

"That's not the case. It's not our troops that they are out thinking, it's the MECs." Harper explained, "Our MEC drones are too simple minded, they make decisions based on commands and pre-programmed responses. Turian ships are crewed entirely by hundreds of organics. Simply put, they physically outnumber us."

Harper zoomed the display into a section of the battle where several Turian and Alliance craft were fighting. The Turian vessels shots were quicker, defensive side guns tore apart Alliance fighters and smaller vessels swftly. Disruptor shots tore past shields and pierced vessels, Alliance armor neglected most of the damage but repeating shots by multiple turrets allowed the large dents to quickly become a gaping wound. The laser weapons of the Alliance pierced the hulls of their Turian foe like a fiery spear into snow, but the holes were much smaller, the damage much less effective. Plasma fire scorched Turian hulls, melting the thick walls of the ships, but again the damage was too small the wounds spreading wide rather than deep. In the background an Alliance vessel exploded, diving into a Turian cruiser and using its Elerium drive core as a devastating explosive. All ships in the area took damage from the blast, debris ripped new holes in the fleet of both sides.

Harper tore his eyes from the display, staring directly at the counsel. "While our weapons ignore their shields entirely both plasma and lasers don't do enough damage. Fusion lances are devastating, but only our dreadnaughts are equipped with lances strong enough to do the kind of damage needed. Fighter sized fusion lances are too small to do more than distracting damage, and the losses we take make it a moot point. The VI controlled fighters can't keep up with the rapidly switching tactics the Turian fleet is employing. Currently it is only the suicidal tactics we are employing that is keeping them from properly countering."

Harper flicked his cigarette, "Currently we have a few dozen Turian captives held hostage aboard the AXV Malice under the care of XCOM's head of R&D Kevin Knives. We intend to use the hostages to buy time and allow the XCOM forces in the area to help with the fight."

Counselor Hummel glared, "Why would the invading force give a damn about a few hostages?"

"Because one of the hostages is the younger brother of the Turian who is leading the attack."

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War was quickly becoming tiring for Captain Anderson.

There was only so much you could do when the enemy squadrons outnumbered you three to one. Even with superior armor and weapons, fatigue would make you more and more likely to err. Several times the XCOM Captain had to use the Psi Inspiration technique, not to prevent or amplify psychic skills but to motivate his troops to keep fighting. Prolonged use of the Psi link was known to cause damage to a human mind unless suppressive pills were taken and his team had been using it for hours. Most of the team was sore from being flung about with explosives or knocked down by sniper fire. The medic, Melissa Lang, had reported low supplies nearly two hours before.

The Turian's tactics switched constantly, the moment the bird faced metal-heads confirmed that something wouldn't work they tried something else. Close combat was suicide, so they tried sniping. Sniping didn't work so they tried fires. Fires wouldn't burn their enemy so they switched to explosives. Explosives worked, so that's what they started spamming like a SC2-Korean VI program. Land mines, grenades, rockets, and dropping buildings on Alliance soldiers.

Anderson looked over the smoking city that was named Hope. The Capital city had been blasted by the landing Turian vessels and strafing runs from both sides. The steady use of explosives and pyrotechnics had lit the city on fire in several sectors and many buildings held significant scars from the combatants. Anderson had made a small nest to watch over his weary comrade. His rifle had cut down at least a hundred invaders, for every one there was a small mark on the barrel to remember the kill.

Anderson's combat display flashed with a notification, a set of sensors nearly three thousand meters away detected movement. Anderson took position, setting his rifle in a small stack of wood he had set up for just this occasion. The rifle hummed with a steady charge as his enhanced eyes gazed at his prey down the scope. Six Turians. Anderson's mind flowed into a special trance he used when he had to make a difficult shot.

"First, distract targets with wounded ally. Counter defensive rush with rapid shots in front of them, kill second with 'random' shot to the torso. Execute third with head shot. Fourth killed by shooting explosive pack, remaining team scattered by blast. Reload. Fire crippling shots survivors, draw out reinforcements. Strengthen position with suppressive sniper fire. No Reinforcements, kill injured survivors with head shots. Summary: Enemy team executed. Area demolished by Turian explosives. Team location remains uncompromised..."

A set of loud but soft thumps came from behind, "Has anyone ever told you that you mutter to yourself when you do that?" The team heavy approached, his Fusion Gatling gun resting over one shoulder. "Captain, John says that he spotted another set of landmines on West Tokyo Drive. The birds are getting smarter but their mines are still obvious even without thermals."

Anderson reloaded his plasma class sniper rifle, idly examining the scope on it, "Hows the rest of the team Jackson?" he asked with a weary tone of voice.

The heavy weapons specialist sighed, taking a seat on some rubble, "The constant strain of the meld is getting to them sir. Melissa says that shes run out of pills to suppress the headaches. We either need to return to a outpost for more or we're going to start suffering."

Anderson sighed, and strapped his rifle to his back, "Where is the nearest outpost?"

"Not for another thirty miles behind us." Jackson replied casually. "The Birds have been trying to cut our supply lines and bomb any location they think we're gathering."

"Lets go gather the team, we got a long walk ahead of us."

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Dr. Knives cursed up a storm as several more reports of Turian landing teams came in. The Turians were determined pests, but that was all they were. Pests. The elderly doctor darted gracefully around his lab, running multiple projects at once. The AXV Science Vessel Malice had been equipped with top of the line technology and was just as lethal as any dreadnaught, and its defensive armament was matched only by the amount of scientific gear it contained.

The firepower from the Turian dreadnaughts was being carefully monitored, several dozen streams of combat data were being recorded, reviewed and analyzed for the doctor's use. While Shanxi was fighting for its life and right to survive, Alliance forces on Earth and Mars were already working overtime to use any received data to create counter measures. Within hours of the first shots at the relay several Disperser proof shields were already at the design phase, the XCOM scientists focusing on how to utterly crush the threat. Against regulations several scientists were using mink link techniques to share theories and designs quicker. In their opinions the damage their brain cells took was worth the cost if it meant a breakthrough.

While his colleagues were safe solar systems away, Dr. Knives was working on the then and there. Turian weapons were devastating only due to the range, rate of fire, and penetrating power. Penetration had been taken care of until the metal-head birds had introduced the disruptor rounds. The sociopath Doctor kept an eye at all times on a display screen in his lab, this one monitoring the status of Shanxi's evacuation. While the Turians lacked the numbers needed to blockade the planet it was only a matter of time until their continuously reinforcing numbers got past, in several sections of Shanxi's orbit the Alliance numbers were dwindling too quickly for the Defenders to not be flanked and pinned.

A new tactic would have to be improvised before the metal-heads could think of reinforcing their expeditiously dying ground forces. Knives' eyes browsed multiple reports on Shanxi's defenses simultaneously, looking for a card to play. A report on the planetary defense cannons caught his eye. The Cannon's had been completed, but lacked software, calibration, and the VI-IFF Targeting system. The oncoming invasion had made civilian evacuation and battlefield preparation a priority, delaying the Cannon's activation. Thrice damned red tape. It would take hours for a proper installation, even remotely, but manual control was another matter entirely...

The Doctor opened a link to the planet's surface, A XCOM operative replied instantly, "Sergeant Major Parker, reporting Sir!"

"Major Parker, I am sending you several coordinates to Shanxi's main planetary defense cannon. I want you to gather two more teams to head there and set up an up-link to the primary computer and defend the area. I will be sending in an MEC Shock Troop squadron to secure the Cannon. This is a priority task to reinforce the fleet, it must be completed immediately!"

"Rodger command." The transmission cut.

The Doctor opened up several channels using mobile holo-screens instead of the display tablets, His fingers danced across the keys as he opened up his ship's communications to a more open set of frequencies and directed several receivers at the location of the Cannon. As soon as he got the signal he would be able to control the facilities remotely. The cannon would be able to decimate any Turian vessel in range.

Dr. Knives next transmission was both to the barracks and the launch bay, "Hammer Team-00 prepare for deployment! Zero-nine load out, defensive armors only!"

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The MEC Troopers had come a long way from the days of their ancestors. While loss of limbs had been and still were a requirement, the modern MEC Troopers were gene mod, psychic, and walking battle tanks. The use of an MEC was considered overkill on any front, and a entire squad was only ever sent at when the situation was either dire or you just wanted everything dead.

Hammer Team-00 was Dr. Knives personal team. The team received not only special privileges but special weapons due to such an honor. Their suits were easily several times larger than the average MEC, instead of claiming to be a walking tank, they easily were the size of a tank. Hammer 00's weapons were all test models: integrated Gatling lasers, MEC drone load-outs, and charged particle rifles. Their armor was designed to endure orbital deployment, allowing Hammer to fight in any and all environment. Finally, unlike other MEC's they had become more machine than man, entire organ systems replaced with Knives' designed synthetics.

The Hammers launched themselves at Shanxi literally minutes after being told the coordinates. The half ton war-machines literally leapt out to the void of space and used their boosters to fling themselves at the planet. The six man squad ripped into the atmosphere at speeds exceeding terminal velocity, the outer layers of their armor glowing a burning red. Twenty seconds from impact each member of the Hammer team activated a biotic field, the VI run landing system controlling the mass effect field and negating the inertia and reducing the weight.

With little more than a thud the team landed on the pavement outside the Cannon, and began firing upon any Turian signature the on-board VIs could locate. Any nearby Turians died within seconds of the landing, holes burned in their torso from the omni-piercing lance of Hammer team's particle rifles. The mental and cybernetic up-link of the team coordinated their efforts as they began laying a defensive minefield around the several story tall Cannon. Clusters of Turian troops were shredded by grenades, pierced by particle accelerators or incinerated with flamethrowers. Some very foolish Turians who believed close range would save them were turned into a dark blue smear by the fist or foot of a Hammer team member.

By the time the Major arrived with his three squads thirty minutes later, the Hammer Team had shot down several Turian vessels and slain dozens more of the invaders. If the Turians were infective against the Alliance infantry then fighting Hammer-00 was worthless suicide. Changing tactics only did so much against a moving metal monster with enough firepower to take on a frigate by itself and win. The Major's team quickly took up defensive positions in the war zone, adding supporting fire and cover for the superior killers. The MEC Troopers patrolled the area, in teams of two while the XCOM psi-ops covered the cannon and its power supply. Apart from the major and two techs hooking up the transmitters the non-mechanized teams mostly watched their robotic comrades work.

Watching your average MEC in combat is like observing a synchronized display of killing perfection, Hammer team took it a step further and made it an art form. The MEC reinforcements were engaging a landing frigate, another Turian attempt to establish a base camp. The foolish pilot had landed within a clear line of sight of the war machines, and they took that advantage for everything it was worth. Four of the six fired upon the engines using a combination of their rifles and shoulder mounted grenade launchers, the other two were terrorizing the disembarked Turians with their suit's wrist mounted 'plasma caster' flamethrower. To no one's surprise the flame broiled Turian smelt like chicken.

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General Desolas Arterius watched as his enemy began to burn. The fight they put up was a testament to their power, the fury of their attacks was unmatchable. The new race's ships were slow to fire, and easy to dodge. The constant movement and evasive techniques of the Turians allowed the to endure against the enemy ships' superior firepower. While on the exterior it appeared that the Turian vessels were not enduring the enemy attacks but shrugging them off, the truth was that the lasers and plasma was reeking havoc on the insides of the ships. A laser would pierce multiple decks and expose dozens of Turians to a lack of atmosphere meanwhile the plasma blasts were cooking Turians inside their ships and crippling entire systems at a time. The more unstable weapons like the nuclear rounds had to be guarded to prevent their volatile load from exploding spontaneously. Turian crews had to wear space suits constantly for fear of being spaced at a moments notice. In hundreds of ships the crew already had no atmosphere and were rushing to repair gaps before the air in their suits ran out.

The leader of the invading forces sat in his command seat, idly sipping a dextro-amino energy drink. The general had spent days awake, and the strain was beginning to wear him down. The medical teams aboard the dreadnaught Sanctuary had already injected him with boosters several times to keep his mind sharp and his body ready. However medicine could only do so much, Asari designed stimulants had a limitation on how long they could be used before they starting ruining the body rather than supporting it.

With the failure and demise of dozens of landing squads Arterius had recalled the landing missions, instead redirecting them to support any Turian vessel that reported infiltrators. Until a time where the Turians held total air domination there was no point in landing teams on the ground. The enemy ground forces were decimating anything that touched the soil of their home.

"General Arterius, our scouts have reported spotting an evacuation site, the enemy has it guarded with a large escort force. Sir, the scouts are reporting that the emissions they are detecting from the evacuation vessels match the energy outputs of a ship using a mass relay!"

The general rubbed a mandible, "That sounds very interesting... How many ships defending?"

"A few dozen cruisers, but only one dreadnaught! The scouts report it is heavily armed and a radically different design than the one's we've already engaged."

"Ensign, how many ships are not engaged in combat and would be able to safely move to the evacuation site?"

The Ensign checked his numbers quickly, "We have one dreadnaught, the Beu'phalas which is firing long range, and nearly forty ships not actively fighting."

"Give them the coordinates of the evac-zone, give them a priority order to destroy the dreadnaught."

A medical officer bringing yet another energy drink looked curious at general Arterius command, "Why focus on one dreadnaught? They still have at least two hundred others."

"I am willing to bet that the odd one is the command ship for the defenders, and if we cut off its head the body will die. At the very least they will split more forces from the main battle once the chain of command is shaken, and when that happens we will take advantage and blockade the planet."

Desolas watched his holomap with a sense of smug joy as he watched the battle unfold.

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"Doctor!" The lab intercom bellowed, "Turian forces are coming towards us! We believe that they have spotted our evacuation efforts are are preparing to blockade us!"

Dr. Knives rubbed his eyes, a habit that showed that he wanted to kill something in a very unappealing manner. "Tell the prison block I'm on my way and to activate the transmitter I set up, I want to be ready to broadcast the moment I enter Saren's cell."

The mad doctor rushed across the Malice, knowing time was of the essence. With a tap to an earpiece he called the Commander Harper, "Commander, the Turians are moving to attack the evacuating civilians, do you still want me to turn this into a hostage situation?"

"Do not allow a single civilian death Knives!" Harper's stern voice replied, "I don't care what methods we have to use!"

Knives could hear the tell tale click of the commander's silver lighter and could imagine him lighting up another one of his addictive sticks, "Make this work, Doctor. The counsel has agreed that the loss of Shanxi is a regrettable possibility but the loss of its people is not an option. Talk them into a ceasefire, scare tactics, bluff, whatever, but buy us time to finish the evacuations."

"Commander, we are almost seventy-seven percent complete. We just need a few more hours."

"Good, find a way to provide those hours. I will provide what support I can."

Knives hastily strolled into The Malice's cell block, walking straight into Saren's cell and flipping a switch on a large cylindrical machine. The machine shuddered and beeped as it started up. Several guards moved into a formation behind the doctor and pointed their rifles at Saren.

The broadcasting equipment completed its start-up sequence and projected a large screen with a very surprised Turian staring back at the scene in the cell. "Greetings," began Knives in perfect Turian, "My name is Kevin Sebastian Knives and I do believe that I have something of dear importance to your leader..."

The Turian Comm officer moved off camera, but could be plainly heard talking to another Turian in a barely audible panic. The Same Turian sat back down at it's station and began to type on something just out of site. The Comm officer looked shocked.

"You're not going to get rid of me that easily." Knives stated, and gestured to a guard. Another Turian prisoner was brought into view of the camera, "Now I don't have time to play games, redirect this transmission to the commander of the Turian forces or I will execute every last captured Turian I have in my possession before finishing with his brother!"

The Turian panicked and stared at a figure off-screen that was bellowing to do it. The transmission screen blurred and twitched. While the transmission was redirected the spare prisoner was escorted out, followed by the telling cough of a plasma burst just outside. The broadcasting machine hummed louder for a moment before a new scene was displayed, a rather impressive command deck loaded with a large number of very angry Turians.

"What have you done to my brother creature!" Hissed one Turian, its eyes were focused in a manner that one would guess is anger.

Knives was certain he had found the leader of the invaders. "As I said to your helpful comm officer: I am Kevin Sebastian Knives, Human Systems Alliance Civilian, Head of Interrogation, Research and Development for the Extraterrestrial Combat Unit. I have come to ask for a cease fire agreement while we evacuate our civilians."

The Turian stood from his command seat, "I am General Desolas Arterius of the Turian Hierarchy. Your people are charged with crimes against Citadel law and will be punished."

"What laws are those?" Knives asked with an innocent expression that made the guards who saw it feel it was the most unnatural thing to ever exist. The Turians, who did not know human facial expressions, just thought his eyes were wide.

"Your people have been caught attempting to activate Mass Relay three one four," began listing the Turian, "attacked a Turian patrol vessel, suspected use of biological weapons and torture of captives."

The XCOM Doctor smiled, and despite not knowing what it meant, the Turians felt unsettled by it. Knives extended his hand with the fingers outstretched and the back facing the head Turian, "We did not use the relay, our people have no need of them." His pinky curled, "Your people opened fire on us and we defended our selves." he curled his thumb inward, "We don't use biological weapons, we have much better ways of terrorizing our enemies." his ring finger was dropped, "As for torture? It's research." His index finger bent over, leaving his middle finger extended, "Finally, we aren't part of your Hierarchy and thus we didn't know your rules. So how the hell were we supposed to follow them?"

"Ignorance of the law doesn't mean you can skip them as you'd like!" Desolas growled, "We have video logs and casualty reports of your biological weapons! Your ships were shot down because they violated Citadel law! And spirits help me I will see your species pay for what you have done to my brother!"

"Actually he's one of the reasons for this transmission," Knives placed an hand under Saren's jaw and lifted the still drugged prisoner's head up, "You see, we want a ceasefire. Your going to stop your attacks and back away from Shanxi until we finish evacuating our civilians and then we can continue this fight."

"You think that I would miss a chance to see your species burn?" Desolas bluffed with skill, "Even if he is my brother you can't think he is worth the honor the hierarchy will give me for killing you?"

Knives smile widened, "Your brother has shared such stories with me, Desolas. About his dreams to become a 'Spectre.' How you made sure he was placed under your command to protect him and mold him to be your worthy successor. Such a caring relationship, I really doubt you could stand to be the cause if it ended. However if he really is that worthless..." The Doctor snapped his fingers with a flourish.

The tubes implanted into Saren carried a fluorescent yellowish orange fluid, and not even a second after it reached Saren did he start screaming. Desolas watched in helpless despair as his kin was flooded with pain. "Stop!" He cried out, "Stop hurting my brother!" Desolas turned to his crew and in direct disobedience to the orders of the hierarchy commanded, "All forces cease fire! Pull everything back! Now!"

"Not worth the honor huh?" Knives dryly remarked, replacing the drugs with a clear colored antidote, "I don't suppose you would be willing to negotiate a truce? Perhaps even surrender? Not that I would expect you to, your commanders will already want to dishonorably discharge you and possibly flay you for this ceasefire already."

"If you want your people to have any chance of survival you will send my brother and all other captured Turians in a shuttle now!" The general's physiology was similar enough that Knives could tell he was trembling in barely suppressed fury. "If you do not I swear I will glass this planet and send your species back to their moment of creation."

Knives grin lost its potency, he was acting unnerved but was delighted that the Turians had no idea of Earth. "Your bluffing, your commanders would never allow you to commit such a genocide."

"Your species has already proven to be a threat, you will submit to the Turian Hierarchy or be destroyed."

Knives stared back at his adversary, and was prepared to snap out several more biting retorts when someone else in the room decided to speak up. "Bro...ther..."Knives eyes widened in fear, this moment could make or break the stalemate. He turned to the still bound Saren Arterius.

"Kill them...all." Saren stuck out his tongue. In front of the Humans, The Turians and what ever deities were watching the conflict bit his tongue off. Dark blue blood poured out of Saren's mouth slipping between his unmistakable grin of triumph. The prisoner drew a wad of blood into his mouth and spat it out upon the XCOM Doctor.

Knives knew at that point, that Shanxi was doomed. He clearly heard the screams of Desolas' denial as his brother was dying before him. The General didn't need to speak his enemy's language to know what his brother had done. A medical team rushed in, but Saren violently resisted any and all efforts to be healed, thrashing with all his remaining strength and biting at everything that tried to heal his wounds. Minutes past in seconds as both sides watched Saren strain and bleed. Knives watched as the captured Turian expired, his last act to sacrifice himself to doom his foes.

Knives turned back to the screen and could see the infinite fury of the Turian commander reflected upon his now stony visage. "Inform the fleet that the rules of engagement are over." Desolas commanded, "Any ships available are to commence planet purge protocols, all ships are to make civilian vessels the priority. Kill them all."

The Transmission cut out, the screen full of shocked and furious Turians replaced by a sea of static. The Counsel would not be pleased by this. Dr. Knives idly wondered if it was events like this that led to the commander's chain smoking. Knives looked at Saren's corpse with spite in his eyes. "Take that trash to my lab." He told the medical team, "he's not getting out of this so easily."

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XCOM forces across Shanxi were surprised when they received the orders to retreat to the evacuation zones. Many were more surprised when they watched dozens of explosions either nearby or in the distance, they recognized the mushroom cloud of a nuclear blast. All of them knew what it meant, the invaders were winning and Shanxi would soon be lost.

Major Parker and his teams stood behind. They had their orders and they stuck to them. The defensive cannon up-link had been setup but no further orders had come in. With the new found aid of orbital bombardment the Turian efforts to set up a ground assault had increased several fold, focusing all their efforts on securing one position and spreading rather than dozens of lesser sabotage teams. Their chosen landing zone being chosen by the damned devil Murphy, was less than a kilometer from the Cannon and thus a constant stream of Turian attack came in.

Hammer Team was preoccupied keeping the Turian's heavy artillery and tanks from reaching the cannons, and while the Turian's infantry weapons were useless against Alliance armor they quickly learned and abused the knowledge that Alliance soldiers were not immune to ruined buildings falling on them or the blast wave of explosives. The XCOM squadrons quickly learned that the Turians kept a ridiculous number of grenades on hand and had no issues using them in an overzealous manner. Almost all the buildings nearby had fallen to Turian explosive prowess.

The combat HUD in Parker's helmet read that out of the twenty four soldiers he had brought with him only ten were left, not counting the six hammers. Constant use of psychic techniques were taking its toll on his comrades,forcing them to rely on the armored MEC troops to survive. Ammo count was swiftly dwindling, the recharging power packs used by Alliance forces would short out if reused to often to quickly, and unfortunately that was what was happening.

With every minute the Turian's artillery became more accurate as the ground spotters came closer and closer. Most of the orbital rounds devastated a city block upon impact and the force of the blast was more than adequate to shred any one even Dr. Knives' custom MEC designs.

The Major felt it before he heard the whistle of shearing air as the shell came towards them. A blue glowing spear pierced the sky and slammed into the ground scant yards behind him. The major felt his body become flung into the air, debris spraying around him like drops of rain in a storm, The defensive cannon was shredded by a mass accelerator round.

A ruined wall slowed the major's flight, knocking him aside and altered his course so he crashed into the remains of a street. Major Parker noted the emergency flashing in his HUD. His entire team had been caught in the blast all of their vitals were either in the red or cut out.. His Prothean-Titan armor had detected the presence of several fractures and at least one broken rib, and injected him with pain suppressing drugs.

His rifle was scrapped, the alloy warped until the gun was useless. Ignoring the now sore ribs he drew his sidearm, an alloy class 'shredder' pistol, and a combat knife. The readout from his HUD was distorted by a spiderweb of cracks along his visor but he could still tell that something without an Alliance IFF was moving to his position.

Sluggishly Parker stumbled over to a pile of debris and laid upon it, hiding his weapons under an overturned desk and his torso. Parker wasn't a Psi-Volunteer class but he could still dish out psi techniques with the best of them. He focused on releasing a mindfray, building the energy and letting it grow restless inside him. The sounds of multiple targets approaching reached his ears, the crunching of boots on glass and rock giving away their distance.

"_Come on... Come on..._" Parker thought to himself, if he was going to die, he damn well was going to do it fighting. _"Fucking metal birds... get over here and die..."_

Eventually one of the enemy spotted him and walked to his side. Parker lay completely still, holding his breath to give nothing away. The Turian turned the Major over and that was when he struck, driving his knife into the Turian's helmet with a reverse grip. The monomolecular edge of the knife cut the material like scissors cut cloth, biting into the now screaming Turian's face and slicing off a mandible. The major took an instant head count. Eight of the enemy.

The second closest had his mind shredded with Parker's mindfray, the Turian brain literally overloading from the strain and popping inside the skull. Parker grabbed the knife victim and held him close from behind keeping the knife over his hostage throat he fired upon the Turian squad wounding several with the pistol's alloy scatter-shot. The major stumbled and swayed as he backed away. His body still heavily damaged from the orbital blast he had been caught in.

The six of the Turian squad remaining took a semi-circular formation around him, further limiting the effectiveness of his pistol. They kept their aim steady but did not fire, knowing they would risk killing one of their own. The Turians barked commands at Parker in their native tongue. Parker sighed, he had a wife and three kids on Mars. With a prayer and a sigh he said a silent goodbye, and opened fire simultaneously slicing the throat of his hostage. The major rushed the closest Turian to his left, ducking and sliding to slice at his leg before finishing with a pistol shot directly to the face. The suicide by combat continued with another mindfray, far weaker than the over kill it was spread amongst the Turians to stun them.

Ignoring the re-emerging pain in his chest, Parker dove at the next in formation thrusting the knife into his foes, chest and jerking it brutally grabbing at the Turian's rifle and forcing it to fire upon it's teammates. The burst forced them to scatter and he took advantage of that enforcing his will upon his newest captive and taking control of his mind. The converted Turian provided Parker with cover fire as he swept up another of his victim's rifles and sprayed his foes with bullets. The constant moment had forced a crippling pain to blossom in the Major's chest but he ignored it.

The mind controlled Turian's head exploded with blue gore following the sound of a thunderous crack. The sound of a sniper with an exceptionally powerful rifle. "Of course there's a fucking sniper!" Parker swore, diving behind cover. The thunderclap rang out again, and this time Parker was stunned. There was sharp pain in his right forearm, a hollow sensation as if something had been taken from inside it.

Parker stared at the bloody hole in his arm in disbelief. In the spider-cracked corner of his HUD he could just barely make out the blurred icon informing him that his barrier emitter had been disabled. He checked his suit's detonator it too was useless, damaged by the blast. A third bark of gunfire, and his kneecap erupted from his leg, dropping the major to the ground. The XCOM operatives were trained to fight to the last, and Parker had no desire to meet a disappointed drill instructor in hell.

The man grabbed his pistol from the dirt and pointed it in the direction of the Turians, the gun had a maximum of twenty shots and he had eight shots left. If he had a spare hand he would reload, but that was a pipe dream at best. The major felt his life pouring out of his leg and arms, the blood loss making his good arm unsteady. The Turian squad peeked out cautiously, they learned the hard way that the Major played dead before.

The pistol got three shots out at the approaching metal-heads before a fourth gunshot took the pistol from his hand. Parker felt his consciousness draining from him. His breathing was rapid and shallow, signs of hypovolemic shock. The major smiled, "_ deprive the metal-heads of prisoner._" The last thing the major's eyes noticed was a Turian staring at him down the barrel of a gun.

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One minute and thirty seven seconds. That's all it took. One minute and thirty-seven seconds for the Turians to dominate the skies of Shanxi with an underhanded tactic. Nuclear weapons.

Nuclear weapons were deadly enough on their own, but launched from a mass accelerator was nothing more than overkill. Desolas Arterius was furious and he let that anger be known. Shanxi was what the Citadel Counsel considered a garden world, and it was against multiple species laws to destroy them. Desolas didn't care at all. The Alliance forces recognized the bombardment that was being thrown at them, and rapidly started pouring from the planet in greater numbers. Nuclear weapons were carried by all Turian vessels ever since the war against the Rachni wars. There were still several standing orders that any planet with a confirmed Rachni presence was to be glassed before the species could spread. Desolas already had his cover story prepared.

The Alliance dreadnaughts pulled back from the primary battle to cover the civilian evacuations. The Frigates and smaller vessels raced to the planet, no doubt to save whom the could. The Carriers and interceptor holders made a massive effort to intercept or shoot down the ships bombing the planet. The Turians took advantage of the Alliance defensive tactics, focusing their attacks on the evacuating civilians to great effect. The large nuclear arsenal of the Turians allowed them to not only glass the planet with a combination of mass accelerator shots and nuclear fire but also to direct multiple nuclear weapons at the demoralized defenders.

The newly unleashed nuclear armaments were several times deadlier than the assortment of ammunition having been previously used by the invaders. The weapons would struck the Alliance vessels at outmatched speeds before detonating with devastating force. Ethereal armor was resistant to all forms of projectile impact, but against the vaporizing plasma blasts of the Turians banned weapons it made little difference. Desolas was sure his fleet would have to spend a month in decontamination to purge the fallout from their flesh but it would be worth it to annihilate these things before the galaxy would ever learn of them.

Back on Earth, Jack Harper looked at the Alliance Counsel and made a grace announcement he hoped would not happen. "Ladies and Gentlemen. We have lost Shanxi." A full retreat was order was sent out, and an announcement was sent to all Alliance worlds: Once more, humanity was at war.


	6. Requiem for a world

It had been a week after the loss of Shanxi and the Human Systems Alliance was still reeling from the news. Alliance officials were in disbelief after the statistics began pouring in. Just shy of ninety six million dead, an entire seed world burned, and ten thousand ships crippled or dead including one of the three Alliance flagships. The loss of Shanxi was demoralizing, the loss of one tenth of the Alliance fleet was devastating.

The Alliance military chain of command was furious over such a defeat, the counsel strained to keep citizens from rash actions. Across the Sol system a rush to secure weapons and supplies for an impending invasion was occurring. Concerned citizens felt helpless as all combat capable military personnel were called upon. Those radical minorities that had claimed to desire a peaceful encounter with alien life shifted opinions, crying out for the blood of the new enemy.

Not even a day after returning Alliance Fleet General Williams made a speech to the Human Systems Alliance. Scars covered his face, a cybernetic left arm was left exposed and revealed for the people to see. With a noticeable limp the man marched to a podium and addressed the people. "Good morning. Less than twelve hours ago, I led the first and second Alliance assault fleets to stand guard over Shanxi, and there they fought the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind."

The General paused, "Mankind. That word should have new meaning for all of us today. I address you tonight not as a General of the Alliance, not as the leader of a fleet, but as a member of humanity. Once again we are faced with the very gravest of challenges. Once again are fighting for our freedom. Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution… but from annihilation. And yet, for the first time in the history of humanity, our species has the technology to prevent its own extinction. All of you praying with us need to know that everything that can be done to prevent this disaster is being called into service. Soldiers are being armed with cutting edge weapons, new ships are being produced daily, and XCOM recruitment is increasing."

"For two-hundred years we have had peace. The Ethereal races came to enslave us, to turn our people into weapons to fight for them. Now the Turians have come. They attacked us because we are not like them. We don't know their ways or laws. Because we did not bow to them they took the lives and homes of the people of Shanxi. On Shanxi's soil we stood proud and strong. Turian troops died by the thousands and their fleet took disastrous losses. When the Turians realized they couldn't win they have attacked our homes with nuclear fire to purge our kind from existence. To stop us from winning they poisoned the planet and recklessly bombarded everything we hold dear."

The General's hands clenched into fists as he proclaimed passionately, "The human thirst for excellence, knowledge, every step up the ladder of science, every adventurous reach into space, all of our combined modern technologies and imaginations, even the wars that we've fought have provided us the tools to wage these terrible battles. Through all the chaos that is our history, through all of the wrongs and the discord, through all of the pain and suffering, through all of our times, there is one thing that has nourished our souls, and elevated our species above its origins, and that is our courage! "

"The Turians have started a war of annihilation. Let every human cry for vengeance. We will push our military and technological might to its very limits. Every world that the Turians hold must be purged of all life, and their home world of Palaven must be ground to dust until every single Turian is dead. We will remember today as the day when the Alliance declared in one voice: We will not go quietly into the night! We will not fall without a fight!" The general calmed himself and tried to regain composure, "Humanity will adapt, overcome and persevere! May we all, citizens of the Alliance, see these events through. God speed. Vigilo Confido."

Millions mourned the losses of Shanxi: families torn apart, over two-hundred million homeless, and trillions of credits in damage. The last civilian fleets pouring in with the battle scarred remains of the first and second fleets was a traumatizing image for the Alliance populace. People prayed to a unforgiving deity, they denied and begged it to not be true, they wept in the streets, they hated.

Recruitment into the Alliance military hit new heights. Those whom could not fight insisted on aiding the war effort in any way possible. Scientists abandoned lifetime progress to aid the efforts in countering the Turian technology. Retired officers reenlisted, thousands electing for MEC conversions. The XCOM Facilities across the Sol system received dozens of new soldiers determined to enter the Volunteer ranks. The shipyards of Luna were flooded with shipments of construction drones, each dock was occupied either repairing the ships of Shanxi survivors or building new ships to make up for the losses.

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Humanity had been force to retreat and lick its wounds, but like all wounded species that only made it more dangerous. The knowledge that Turians not only possessed but were willing to use nuclear weapons against them made the Alliance leadership more than willing to up the ante. Several banned projects were reactivated, weapons deemed too extreme or potentially too disastrous were put into production.

It was one of these banned projects that Commander Harper was about to approve. Dr. Knives had called him to the testing lab at the XCOM HQ on Luna. The good Doctor had been outraged at the call to retreat from Shanxi, but had obeyed understanding that the loss of his data and test subjects would be an addition problem heaped onto the disaster. The loss had sent the man into a frenzy, one that he focused all onto his work. Several customized gene therapy tanks had been requisitioned along with samples of every DNA sequence that humanity had in store. The Doctor had sealed his lab and refused to let anyone but himself enter the facilities. Jack Harper was a very disciplined man, it took impossible acts of the divine to surprise him let alone shock him. When Harper entered the locked off labs, Harper swore to the gods that he didn't believe in that he was hallucinating.

Standing beside a smiling Dr. Knives was a Chryssalid on steroids. The seven foot tall violet skinned abomination had six legs growing out of its torso rather than the recorded four. Its hands held an extra clawed digit, the webbed hands now five fingered and if possible Harper swore they looked sharper. The Chryssalids glowing yellow eyes were just as haunting as they were in the recorded videos. The numerous tan orange spikes they protruded from the creature's joints were no longer dull but instead a sharp barb similar in shape to a rose's thorn. The monster's torso was serpentine but no longer as thin, instead much more thicker and muscled. The beast lacked the mad and wild look of its kind, instead it watched and observed, its mouth opened in a warped facsimile of a smile complete with razor sharp _flexing _teeth. Harper knew then that it was more intelligent than its other kin and much more of a threat.

Then Harper's eyes notice one more detail that almost escaped him, one which caused his brilliant mind to nearly fail when he realized the abomination was nuzzling the elderly Doctor instead of maiming him. _Like a pet!_

Harper slammed his hand on an emergency lock-down switch on the wall, drawing a sidearm and readying to fight for his life. "Knives you better have a good goddamned explanation for this!" Harper yelled, not screamed, yelled in terror.

Knives unwrapped and began chewing on a stick of gum, "You know, the fact that you might shoot me for this later is made up for by the look on your face." the man said calmly, and began idly petting the affectionate Chryssalid.

"Why is that thing here? And why the hell is it not attacking?" Harper demanded, now understandably furious.

"Meet the gene-modded Chryssalid model seven, I call him Fred." Knives explained, "I've taken the Chryssalid DNA as a base, spliced in some DNA from the original Thin Men infiltrators and then gave it a set of XCOM class gene mods."

"Why the hell isn't it attacking you?" Harper demanded, very close to shooting the scientist.

"I altered the brain chemistry of the Chryssalid, now it's brain elicits pleasure from the miniscule scent that humans emit from human growth hormones. Fred, and any of his spawn, find physical pleasure from being close to us. Best part is that thanks to other adjustments I've made, they also will feel a genetic drive to protect Humans."

Harper lowered his gun by a few degrees, "And your sure of this?" he asked with narrowed eyes and a still itchy trigger finger.

Knives shrugged, "Follow me then." he said leading his 'pet' and the commander to an adjacent testing room.

"Go on and enter the room Fred." Knives told the Chryssalid, his head glowing with the violet shade from using psi powers. The Chryssalid obeyed, and entered the room.

"Mind control?" Harper asked.

"I weakened their immunity to psionics. They will obey you with even the slightest effort. Now watch what happens when they see anything not human!" The older man slid over to a nearby console and typed in a command with a joyful flourish.

A door opened opposite to the Chryssalid and a armored Turian with one of his species rifles stepped out. The Turian immediately pointed his rifle at the spider like monster in the room with a look of fear on his face. Harper watched as the Turian ordered the Chryssalid to stay where it was, the monster stood still except to lift its head and sniff the air.

The man made monster screamed, a shrill noise that filled all whom heard it with dread. The Turian opened fire, the bullets tearing into the monster with no resistance. The beast dropped to the floor of the cell a smoking green and black fluid to pour out of its flesh. The Turian noticed the quickly aerosolized blood forming a green fog in the room. The frantic alien beat upon the door to the room, begging in his chirping language to be let out. Behind him, the Chryssalid rose slowly, the gunshot wounds visibly healing. The beast screamed again, and grabbed the Turian from behind and began to feed. The needle fangs and claws of the Chryssalid ripped chunks of the Turian away from its screaming owner before finishing by biting into the Turians stomach and silencing the sacrifice.

The Chryssalid threw its meal aside and screamed in victory, the noise further proof of it's rapture like blood lust. Within a minute the Turian corpse lifted itself to its feet and began stumbling around the cell like a mockery of life. Several small spikes protruded from the dead alien, and grew out of it like bamboo shoots on fast forward. Harper watched with fascinated horror and disgust as the Turian was eventually ripped apart from the inside and released a newborn Chryssalid from the remains.

Harper turned to the manically grinning head of research. "I take it you have a plan in mind for these creatures?" He asked with hints of excitement in his voice.

The ancient science director tapped on his console again, opening a hologram display of a mostly brown planet with a belt of tan green around its equator, "This is the Turian colony world of Invictus. Located in what they call the Terminus systems." Explained Dr. Knives, "It's a very hostile world loaded with diseases and pests in its jungle loaded tropical belt but it has plenty of Turian cities that thrive in the deserts. It has an estimated population of nearly three-hundred and twenty million."

The XCOM commander caught on quickly, "You want to use the old Ethereal terror tactics and unleash them on this world? The counsel would never approve of such a tactic. "

"Why not?" The Doctor rebuked with a sneer on his face and a furious look in his eye, "Those freaks used nuclear missiles on us! Shanxi will be so saturated with radiation that even if we ever gained it back it would take a decade at the least to clean the planet, that's not even counting the time to rebuild or the lives lost!" The doctor gestured at the pair of Chryssalids just beyond the glass. "My creations are nearly four-hundred and fifty percent more combat effective than their predecessors! They breed three times faster and would force those damned Turians to burn their own planet this time!"

Harper paused at the frustrated fury that his lead scientist showed, "Knives you need to think with a clear head. We need to fight the Turians but do you really think this is the way?" he asked gently.

"I am thinking Jack!" Knives exclaimed, slamming his hands on his workstation, "The disaster at Shanxi was my fault. I dropped my guard and let that bastard Turian motivate his brother. If that piece of shit hadn't taken his life, we might have had a chance!"

The doctor cradled his head in the palms of his hands. "I dropped my guard and it cost the lives of one hundred million. One mistake and I lost our people a home." Kevin Knives raised his head, and Harper was surprised to see the old man crying.

"You couldn't have known." Harper said sternly, holding the weeping man's shoulder.

"Bullshit." Knives denied vehemently, shaking off the hand, "I dove into his mind the same as I did all the others. I knew how he thought, and what he was trained to do. I underestimated him. I could have kept him drugged. I could have left him in a cell and shown his brother a goddamned security feed instead of a live broadcast! I am responsible for Shanxi and don't you dare try to say that I am not!"

The old man collapsed, sobbing

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When Commander Harper saw a video of General Williams speech he called him immediately, "What do you want Harper? Aren't I suffering enough already?" Williams complained, laying back in a hospital bed.

"I enjoyed your speech today..." Harper commented drolly

"Harper..." Williams warned, "Don't start or I swear I'll undergo MEC conversion just to kick your ass better."

"Did you seriously quote parts of Independence day and Armageddon for your speech?" Harper asked smiling.

"I swear to god Harper, after the Turians are dealt with, I'm coming for you!" Williams replied half joking.

The two had a laugh, one both of them needed, after all who would remember a pair of two hundred year old movies?

"So how did it come out?" Williams asked, adjusting his synthetic arm, "I suspected it was shit but Counselor Hummel insisted that someone who survived Shanxi would make a better speech. The bastard didn't even consider that I was medicated. He seriously steered me from my ship straight to the stage. I had maybe thirty minutes to make it up."

"I could tell you were out of it." Harper remarked, "Particularly how you were getting so enthusiastic at the end."

"You have no idea how much I wish it was the forth of July. The food here is crap and thanks to the synth surgery I have to be on a nutrient rich diet until the nerves fuse." Williams paused as he mentally debated something, "Listen, I'll give you command of Gaia's Shield if you bring me a hamburger."

"That bad huh?"

"I'm a five star general bribing you with a flagship for a burger, you tell me."

"I'm not pissing off your wife Williams. I want to die of old age or on the battlefield, not at the hands of a housewife."

"I'll pay you the money from the name pool?" The general begged.

Harper shook his head no with a smile, "You mean to tell me that nobody has guessed your first name yet?"

"Nope." Williams replied laughing.

"Your not getting your wife pissed at me, General." Harper mocked kindly, "You'll just have to sit and sulk like a good little soldier."

"Fine." Williams replied, wiping the smile off his face, "Whats the real reason you called?"

"Knives has become..." Harper paused to think of the right word, "...upset by the events at Shanxi. He's blaming himself and has made a rash action that may pay off."

"What happened?"

"He's created a new breed of Chryssalid. One that is dozens of times worse than what we faced in the Ethereal war. I've spent hours reviewing the data. It uses Thin men poison, can arm wrestle a Muton berserker, has camouflage skin, and it regenerates."

"Mother of god." Williams muttered, "He's insane. He has to know the counsel will have his head for this!"

"He's altered them to have genetic safeties. He has a tamed one in his lab that has been fighting clones of other Ethereal slave races and the originals. If its not human, it kills them. Knives released a Turian with its weapons and Armor against the thing, and it slaughtered him just like in the old records."

"What do you want to do Harper?" Williams asked weary from the news. "This has to be handled very delicately. It just has too much potential to backfire."

"I think Knives plan has it's merits. We send in XCOM teams to infiltrate a Turian world and start an outbreak. The Chryssalids will overrun the planet and force the Turians to glass it or risk them spreading. It's a dirty tactic, but imagine how demoralizing it would be. The resources that they would have to spend to stop the outbreak would be incredibly costing."

"Your sure the Chryssalids are domesticated?" Williams asked, his face had become stony and thoughtful.

"Knives removed their psychic resistance and made them become docile in the presence of human growth hormone. I want to test releasing the Chryssalids on a colony world and make adjustments based on what data we can gather."

"And you want my help proposing my idea to the brass?"

"We lost nearly two entire fleets at Shanxi." Harper stated flatly, "We both know that the Turians have allies out there that would come to their aid. The only reason our losses were not worse was because they underestimated us. If they had attacked us like they did immediately rather than in waves our losses would be absolute. We need an ace to buy time for the military to go to war."

Williams eyed the commander suspiciously, "You've already sent out teams haven't you?"

"I'm sending nothing more than a scouting and infiltration team. Seven man squad, self detonation packs with heart monitors. They're the spotters, we just need an 'approved' airstrike. I'm sending the wolfpack to observe a Turian colony world on the outskirts of their territory."

Williams stared at Harper as if he was seeing him for the first time. "You want to send those psychotic monsters? Even if you only sent them for recon you know that they will inevitably cause casualties, especially on an alien world!."

"I know. I plan to send insurance that they will be able to perform as needed. They will observe and avoid detection planet side until we gain approval then we will commence their primary operation."

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Jack Harper loved the unprofessional nature of the Wolfpack. After spending so much time with strict military discipline the renegade personalities of Humanity's wolves was refreshing. The moment he walked into their training room, 'the den' they called it, all seven drew a weapon on him in one coordinated movement. The leader, Lupo, held a throwing knife in one hand a folded over magazine in the other. The team demolitions expert Beltway held an old model riot shotgun at leg height. The team scout Vector had moved behind the commander, and held a knife to Jack Harper's lower spine. The remaining team all held laser pistols at his head.

Each member of the Wolfpack was not only handpicked to join but underwent dozens of enhancement procedures. Just like how XCOM was separate from but still a part of the Alliance military, The Wolfpack was separate from but a part of XCOM. Each member of the Wolfpack was a death row criminal. No morals, no hesitation, no restraint. The Wolfpack was officially designated XCOM Alpha Squad. Unlike other designations Alpha, Beta, and Gamma squadrons were all made for suicidal black operations. They were humanity's top assassins. The moment they joined, everyone denied they existed. Due to the nature of both their training and recruitment, they were not allowed off base unless deployed.

Each member of XCOM black ops deserved their imprisonment. Lupo had been a mercenary for various interest groups, and had been suspected of the murder of nearly fifty six of her employer's competitors with psi abilities. Shortly after she became a single mother she was finally convicted and imprisoned for killing her ex-husband with a concentrated mindflay. The middle aged Mars native joined XCOM black ops the moment the deal was offered, the only condition was that her children were to be cared for. After she joined her discipline was enforced on the unit, bringing them in line under her. With skill and cruelty she forced them to obey or die. Several members died as a result.

Vector was a child soldier recovered from a colony that had undergone a civil war of sorts. The boy had been broken in at a young age to kill unaware targets in close range and unfortunately the training had become seared into his mind with various psi techniques. Attempts at therapy and recovery were useless, and attempts to imprison him were hopeless, as unless you went to inhuman lengths to bind him Vector would inevitably break free while slaughtering those who got in the way of his escape attempts. Eventually Vector's file caught the eye of the previous XCOM commander, and he was added into the Black ops at the age of nineteen. By that point over one hundred and fifty had been cut down by Vector's blood lust.

Beltway was an ex-Alliance demolitions expert. Tall, muscular, and utterly deprived of compassion. The man acted like a jolly giant, all for the purpose of gaining trust and friendship. Those who were stupid enough to trust him quickly found themselves killed from some manner of explosive. After a dishonorable discharge from the military Beltway had been captured in Puerto Rico having committed a string of murders using explosives. He had two choices, execution or take Harper's deal.

Four Eyes was black ops only volunteer. Born Christine Yamata, she was the granddaughter of XCOM's Dr. Knives. The young raven haired scientist followed her grandfather's footsteps with one clear difference: she didn't care who she got to experiment on. Several times in the past she had been suspected of illegal experiments, and at least a dozen corpses of humans who had undergone failed invasive surgeries had been found with circumstantial evidence linking to her. Before she could be arrested, she had joined XCOM and underwent the Psi-volunteer training. To further her ambitions she transferred to black ops as a field scientist.

While Four Eyes joined for science, the field medic Bertha joined for medicine. As an Alliance medic she had exceptional training and skill, and was renowned for her aptitude. However shortly after finishing her required tour of duty, she became a doctor caring for coma patients on earth. Within months of joining she was caught acting the part of a 'mercy angel' and was arrested. Numerous psychological evaluations revealed that she had no sense of morals and an extreme love of sadism.

Before he was forced into black ops, the team sniper 'Spectre' had been a famous XCOM soldier Vladimir Bodrovski. Bodrovski had been one of the survivors of the Ethereal war and converted into a MEC soldier due to injuries. The original MEC suits prolonged his life, but not his mind. After years of mental degradation his morals and restraint faded away. The man he became had no qualms about killing for even the simplest of reasons, using his well honed skills as a soldier to spy upon targets whom were slain with impossibly long range sniper fire. After being caught as a hit-man for the Russian mob he was forced into XCOM black ops, moved into an upgraded MEC suit and dozens of medical treatments were used to restore his damaged mind to a point where he didn't kill on a whim.

Night Hawk was the last of the team, the pilot. He had been hailed as a prodegy capable of piloting any vehicle as an extension of his own body. Before his capture by XCOM, Night Hawk had been arrested for multiple counts of grand theft. Having stolen cars, boats, and even star ships on occasion. It was his theft and joyride of an XCOM Hellfire Interceptor that intrigued Commander Harper into recruiting him. While his skills in combat were poor, his skills at infiltration, stealth and piloting were unmatched.

Commander Harper stared down the weapons pointed his way and lit a cigarette, "Good evening." he greeted the Wolfpack , taking a smooth draw on his cigarette, "In one week the Wolfpack is going to lead humanity's counter attack on the Turian race. " The man looked at ease despite the assortment of death pointed at him.

"What is the plan commander?" asked the team field scientist, Four-Eyes. Her Asian accent was made worse by the eagerness in her voice, "Do we get to try out a new toy?" she asked excitedly.

"Dr. Knives has created a new Biological Organic Weapon. A modified Chryssalid species to be specific. The creatures need to be field tested as a potential terror weapon against the Turians."

Beltway stood, stretching out his bulky muscular frame. "Why not just nuke the planet like they did to us?" he asked, "Plenty of fucking firepower there, no need to use some fucked up bugs."

Bertha threw a shoe at the mad bomber, "Why waste our bombs blasting apart colonies? Let the 'bugs' swarm the planet and distract them, while we tear their home world apart!"

"Shut up!" Lupo hissed at the bickering pair. They silenced instantly, "Please continue commander." she asked Harper respectfully.

Harper smirked, no matter how undisciplined the Wolfpack were, nobody disobeyed Lupo. "Your mission will be to infiltrate the Turian colony world of Invictus. There you will establish an outpost and began observation of the planet, and sabotage the planet's defenses if and when when the opportunity arises. And only if you can without being detected. If we get approval from command you will engage in Operation Outbreak."

"Operation Outbreak?" Beltway questioned.

"Using the information you've learned from the observational period, you will enter dense population areas across the planet and activate a special set of weapons that you will have transported with you." Harper explained, "The weapons should convert any affected by them into Chryssalid carriers and start an outbreak. Once the weapon has been deployed you are to gather combat data on the new strain of Chryssalid for as long as possible and return before the Turians can blockade or glass the planet."

"Do we have to worry about collateral damage?" Bertha asked impishly.

Harper caught her real meaning, "If a set of murders occurs on the planet while your there, nobody will care unless you compromise the missions. I wouldn't dream of denying the wolves a chance to hunt."

The team grinned with a terrifying look in their eyes, no doubt that plenty of alien blood would be split when they arrived.

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A month after Shanxi's fall Jack Harper presented his plan for a counterattack to the Alliance Counsel. As he expected, they were outraged. "How dare you bring such an outrageous proposition before us!" An Earth Counselor exclaimed, "Not only are you suggesting we use a biological weapon of this magnitude, but one that is based on the Ethereal Chryssalid? Have you gone mad?"

Harper stood his ground, determined to make his point. "Honored Counselors, we are outmatched." He paused letting the sunning confession silence them, "During the battle of Shanxi we learned that the enemy fleet is superior to our own in the worst ways. We conquered them on the ground, but the moment that they gained control of the skies, they bombed our forces into particles."

Harper displayed several images from the surface of Shanxi. Each picture showed the scars that nuclear fire had left on a once beautiful and lush planet, entire continents had been scorched into a blur of black and brown."We know that the Turians are only one piece of a greater galactic community. The Turians have stood as their military arm for a millennium and now we have given them a black eye. There is no doubt in my mind that they intend to find us, and destroy us! We have broken their laws, and destroyed their fleets. We whom have defied them!"

Harper gestured to a new set of images, pictures of Turian forces searching the ruins of Shanxi's once glorious capital city. "Right now as we speak, the Turians are searching for traces of our technology and any survivors of the battle. If we sit back and give them time to recover they will eventually find us and try to finish what they started!" the commander proclaimed, "Not by themselves, but this time they will come bearing the full might of their Citadel! They would burn our worlds for an offense that we had no way of knowing we committed! Would you allow that to happen?" Harper accused with vigor.

"The Alliance needs time to not only rebuild but improve!" Harper stated passionately, "If Dr. Knives weapon works the Turian worlds would be forced to burn at their own hands while we took the fight to their home world!" The display showed images of located Turian worlds lit ablaze in simulated flame. "If this tactic works not only is Shanxi is avenged, but the countless human lives that would be lost trying to take these worlds could be spared! Two hundred years ago we used the technology of our enemy to improve and fight back! Now I say is the time we use their tactics. Unleash the Chryssalids and let the Turian worlds burn!"

The Alliance voted unanimously. Operation Outbreak would commence immediately.


	7. Fury of a Council Scorned

As the leader of not only the Salarians but as an heiress to wealthy bloodline, Dalatrass Linron was expected to and composed herself in a very calm and collected manner at all times. She dressed in fine robes designed by Asari artisans, drank the sweetest nectar provided, and practiced multiple art forms found in Citadel space as a relaxing hobby.

Every morning she basked in the bright glow of Sur'kesh's sun, and watched the organized flow of Salarians traversing to and from the City of Talat. With proper pose expected of a wealthy lady she would ride to her offices in the capital and read the reports that she would have to observe.

Her daily tranquility was not only broken but shattered by a report from the Special Tasks Group. The Turians had not only discovered a new species, but had attacked their origin world. The Dalatrass eyes read the reports three times but still couldn't work past her disbelief. The new species used energy weapons, plasma guns, had cybernetic warriors and even biological weapons.

Dalatrass Linron read the report more slowly, giving herself time to absorb the data. The new species had been discovered tampering with the three fourteen relay and was attacked preemptively by a Turian patrol of twelve cruisers only to send more than half back to the floatila with critical damage while only losing one of four ships! The new species' vessels had armor and shields that were dozens of times more effective than their own, the shields were even immune to common mass accelerator ammunition. The only thing that would pass were the Turian's anti shield and biotic disruptor rounds. The Armor on the new ships was made of an unknown alloy and defied all identification.

Copies of a transmission from the defending species was recorded in the report. The shock that a first contact race learned to be so fluent in another language so quickly was astounding that they had done so on a battlefield was impossible. Only an Asari had shown such learning potential and even then they used the meld to take the knowledge from other species. The creature identified himself and his species: the human, Kevin Knives. A member of the 'Human Systems Alliance'. A new political force in the galaxy. The Dalatrass continued to watch the remainder of the video, and watched the human's justifiable demands for a ceasefire. The General's demands sounded law abiding on the surface, but was obviously little more than an excuse for wounded pride and an attempt to force the species to improve the already powerful Turian military. The end of the video showed the cause of Shanxi's demise: Saren's suicide and Desolas grief fueled fury.

If that wasn't enough several corpses had been recovered from the attacked planet by STG infiltrators. The recovered creatures appeared roughly Asari with hair replacing tendrils and pink and cream colored flesh instead of shades of blue. Autopsies had been performed on the recovered bodies and the information acquired was immense. Samples taken from the mouth showed odd outcrops of bone, accompanied by powerful jaw muscles, despite the frail appearance the mouth of a human could deliver potentially fatal bites. As if to highlight the potential lethality of a human's bite genetic swabs tested positive for multiple strands of highly infectious bacteria. One human sample was discovered with metal features welded to their jaws further adding to its threat level.

STG scientists watched Turian logs of humans fighting and discovered horrible facts about the human's combat potential. Despite wounding them in various manners humans could continue fighting for entire cycles after receiving injury, even removing a human's limbs was not enough to prevent them from fighting. The only observed way to ensure a human was dead was to destroy the head. The bodies showed evidence of extensive training and use. Muscles developed in the human samples showed signs of constant damage and regeneration as if the humans had constantly destroyed themselves, healed to a state stronger than before, then repeated the process. There was evidence that the subjects had done that for entire solar cycles!

The surprises of the new species continued to emerge, one after another. Samples were removed from the remains of the human digestive tracts, several plant materials were discovered and studied to determine diet. The plants were shown to have toxic properties and highly poisonous to many of the citadel races. Further experimentation and exploration by the STG determined that the human samples didn't become as combat effective as they wore naturally. The species showed signs of significant genetic rewriting, and even some signs of splicing in some sections. Without a 'pure' human sample there was no sure way to confirm. Too many variables, and far too many possibilities for such a genetic diversity in a single species. The popular speculation was that the humans had been doing it to themselves. The possible causes for such extensive self modification were terrifying.

The human's military tactics were extreme by the standards of any Citadel race. Out of a planet with a population in the hundreds of millions, there had been only one captive and even then it was only because the self-detonation device the human warrior carried had been damaged in an orbital strike. The Turians held the captive under lock and key and in absolute isolation. Any attempt to get near the human resulted in a Turian attempting to aid the human in escaping. Several others had been critically injured in the human's various escape attempts. The combat data from the captured human alone was unbelievable. The Captive adapted to using Turian weaponry, using his captor's language, even using omni-tools without prior instruction. According to Turian reports the captive resisted all forms of interrogation, including physical torture. It was also noted that whenever it was physically threatened the captive would react violently inevitably killing its attacker but leaving the others unharmed.

Technology shown by the humans was complex, potent, and severely resistant to reverse engineering. All human weapons were designed to destroy themselves with hidden mechanisms. Human entertainment devices and computers would erase all data when exposed to any access method the scientists tried. Some reacted violently not only damaging themselves but those who were examining the devices. Many of the head researchers theorized that the humans were skilled in information warfare on a higher level than the STG.

Dalatrass Linron had to take a long break from the reports, their information was disturbing and deeply unsettling. A full solar cycle has passed before Linron could work up the nerve to compare the STG reports to the Turian reports. When she forced herself to immerse herself in the files again she was absolutely outraged. A priority message was sent directly to the Citadel immediately. The death sentence was a punishment that had not been used in centuries, but if she had her way Turian heads would roll!

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Few things ever broke up the tedious doldrums of the Citadel Counsel, however an attention drawing yell from the Salarian representative, Valern, did just that."The Turians did what?!" he exclaimed with seething outrage.

The other two counselors stared at their infuriated companion. Valern faced his Turian Counselor Sparatus his features etched in deep disgust. "Sparatus you lying piece of filth! You told us that the incident at relay three-one-four was a Rachni sighting! Not you exterminating a species during a _first contact encounter_!" The Salarian hissed, handing the STG reports to Asari Counselor Tevos, "Do you have any idea what you've done? Not only have you embittered yet another species against your race, your people have endangered the reputations of this Council once again! We cannot keep playing the part of a kind and benevolent culture if our peacekeepers slaughter an entire race when they first meet us!"

Tevos remained silent, reading the reports with visible distress. Sparatus backed away from his fellow counselor's fury, hands held up in a placating gesture. "Valern, it won't matter either way. The humans were breaking dozens of Citadel laws, including trying to activate a relay without permission! We could have had another war similar to the Rachni incident!"

"Don't try to make excuses for this Sparatus!" Valern demanded sternly, "Your precious general let his patrol open fire on a new race! For all we know they never got the chance to learn about the relay network yet! If that's not bad enough your commanders let General Arterius lead an assault on these 'humans' home world! Just for the technology they showed! Did any of your people even try diplomacy!?" Valern waited a scant few seconds for Sparatus to reply. The Turian held his tongue.

"Perfect. Just perfect." the Salarian leader slammed a nearby beverage to the floor, "We have a pre-relay, spaceflight species with incredibly advanced weaponry wandering the stars on a flotilla that now has an excuse to want us dead! All thanks to your peoples foolish desires and wounded pride!"

Tevos finally pulled herself out of the report. "Sparatus, you will have all Turians removed from the Human world immediately." She stated coldly.

"Now wait a moment!" Sparatus protested in vein.

"You have two choices now. The Turians will leave Shanxi, or they will leave the council."

"You can't do that!" the Turian exclaimed childishly, in shock, "The Turians are the protectors of the galaxy!"

"You are the 'protectors' who have just attacked infants!" bellowed Valern with rage, "If the estimates from the STG reports are even a fraction of the truth, your species is now at war with an enemy you cannot locate and nearly half your species entire fleet in need of repairs! When the criminals of the Terminus systems learn of this there will be a new age of piracy! If the Humans rebuild as fast as my scientists predict then we would be in a worse war than the Rachni! We have no Krogan to uplift and save us, the Quarians would only aid us in war if we offered them your people's place on the council, so with your people crippled we have no way to wage war! _Particularly one you approved of!_"

Valern activated a copy of Sparatus self incriminating transmission to General Arterius. "_You hunt them down,_" The video of Sparatus commanded, his voice rich with embarrassed anger, _"you blast them from orbit, and you take them over!"_

Sparatus had the spirits graced dignity to look ashamed. "I will..." he swallowed thickly, choking down his pride, "I will inform Palaven command to remove our forces from Shanxi." The Turian Counselor walked out of the hall, feeling the glare of not only the council but also its guard looking at him with disdain and disgust.

Tevos took a seat, massaging her skull in a vain attempt to relieve the fresh wave of stress threatening to overcome her. "What are we going to do Valern? This news will not stay silent for long, not with these humans wandering the stars. They will want revenge, and honestly I can't blame them..."

Valern took a seat beside Tevos, "We send aid. The best of the other Citadel races. We must try to fix their homeland as well as we can. We can try to purge the radiation from the planet's atmosphere and infuse the soil with nutrients. Without more knowledge of human biology we can't introduce any radiation consuming bacteria or we could accidentally end up finishing the Turian's mistake." Valern sighed, "We cannot afford a war with this species. The technology they displayed would be devastating. While the human's claim not to use biological weapons to cause the outbreak of insanity on board 'Palaven's Might, they didn't deny they were responsible. The humans are incredibly skilled fighters, Tevos. If they push to fight the Turians... I suggest we let them. I won't let the Salarians suffer for the stupidity of the Turian warmongers."

"You must be joking." Tevos said, "There is no way that the people would approve of such a thing! Many would start riots just from the suggestion!"

"Not if we tell them the truth about the incident at relay three-one-four." Valern replied, solemnly

"We can't just let a slaughter commence with out at least trying diplomacy!" Tevos protested, "We can send a diplomatic party to make peace with the Humans who remain on Shanxi. We place them under our protection and nurture them until the others return."

"You do recall that those same others are no doubt preparing for a massive war. Even tracing their faster than light jumps we can't find a sign of them. Dalatrass Linron has already dispatched dozens of STG teams to both search for the Humans, and to search for survivors on the planet."

"I'm surprised that you've not already dispatched troops to acquire human technology." Tevos remarked dryly.

"I'm surprised that you didn't see that part of the report." Valern shot back, "Humans have designed everything they make to be difficult if not impossible to reverse engineer. Every thing is trapped, with entire systems built for the purpose of destroying any piece of technology that is disassembled in the wrong way. We can't even get proper readings on what they make their weapons out of, much less how they work. Until we gain knowledge of their inner workings, we can't even open up a computer without it melting into so much slag."

Tevos massaged her scalp more vigorously, the headache was getting worse. "So, just to review: we have a technologically advanced warrior race hidden somewhere in the galaxy that is most likely plotting revenge on the Turians. Thanks to the Turians own stupidity the humans have a massive number of advantages over them. And finally if we do support the Turians genocidal actions we would be endangering ourselves from either internal strife or from others seeking to exploit the inevitable weakness? Did I get everything or is the more bad news I forgot about?"

"I may have forgotten to inform you that the Dalatrass has already seen fit to make the STG reports public to counter the Turians assurances that the incident was a Rachni outbreak."

Tevos wanted to call back Sparatus and strangle him for helping to cause this catastrophe.

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News of the Turian's attempted genocide rippled across galactic news networks like an uncontrollable wildfire. The Dalatrass' gamble of broadcasting the entire STG report of the events on Shanxi was a public relations nightmare. The knowledge that the people's protector would turn on a new species so easily was shocking, many began wearily eying Turians with suspicion. Each of the space traveling species of the counsel had different reactions to the news.

On Palaven the Turian people were outraged, the members of Turian society having been fed the same Rachni cover story as the rest of the Citadel Species. Many grieving widows and mothers protested the actions of the Hierarchy, however that was only a small number. Most wanted revenge for their kin, the laws had been broken and their people had been killed. Their place in the galaxy was being threatened because the soft skinned newcomers couldn't die right.

Many Asari matriarchs began plotting the moment they heard of the Turians mistakes at Shanxi. Plans and ideas were hatched, ways to aid the humans and make them more susceptible to Asari influence. Ways to add human culture and technology to the Asari people. Even ideas of taking human mates and possibly interbreed were discussed. The Turians sought to make humanity a client race by force, the Asari would capture them with kindness instead.

Many races saw new markets and possibilities appear with the new race. The ones who could ally themselves with the humans could potentially gain access to the weaponry they could repel the Turian fleets. The fanged and violent Vorcha saw a new source of prey and a potential source of weapons. The four eyed Batarians saw a new slave market that would be easy to capture and abuse. The Elcor and Salarians foresaw a new leap in medical technology using the humans gene modification techniques.

The Quarians had an enormous interest in Shanxi's airspace. At the best of times it took decades to clean an area of debris from a space battle. News of the Turians forced recall from Shanxi's system had already spread. The space-fairing Quarians would have an opportunity to salvage the wreckage of dozens if not hundreds of ships. The nomadic fleet dispatched as many ships as it could. With only fifty thousand ships to their name, the thousand sent to claim what they could didn't seem like much. Each cargo vessel had been emptied of everything but the essentials, the ships crew replaced with the most talented Quarian engineers and scientists. With reckless haste the expedition rushed to Shanxi in the hopes that the remains of the titanic battle would improve the life of the Quarian people.

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The Citadel's commands were not well received by the Turian race. Members of the Turian Hierarchy met immediately to discuss and debate their next action, "We are the reason that they still run this galaxy! If not for us the Krogan would have overrun them decades ago!"

"The Council is overstepping its boundaries!" raged another Turian, this one a well known merchant, "We followed the law and exterminated the humans for their crimes! The Salarians had no rights releasing that report! Thanks to that, we've had multiple occurrences of pirates attacking Council borders! What's left of the fleet has to spend its time reinforcing patrols instead of hunting down the humans or taking whats left from their world!"

"Don't you see?" questioned another, "Dalatrass Linron released the report to prevent us from hunting the remaining humans. We have to chose. We simply do not have the numbers needed to secure Shanxi from scavengers or Human reinforcements and protect our territory!"

Primarch Fedorian watched over the assembly hall as all the leaders of the Turian Hierarchy bickered and raged over both the bittersweet victory at Shanxi and the resulting embarrassment. The decision to capture the planet and its people had been a very risky gamble in the first place. The potential gain was something he couldn't overlook. Weapons that ignored barriers and shields would give soldiers an unconquerable advantage on the battlefield. Ship armor that could block all but the strongest assaults could be used to build impenetrable walls and fortresses on the Turian worlds. The technology of the humans was too radically different. If the humans had joined the galaxy at large and their technology became widespread Turian power would lose its potency at a disastrous rate. Such an event could not be allowed, the Turians had fought and bled for their place in the galaxy. No race of children who had yet to touch a relay could be allowed to disrupt the status quo!

The Primarch's eyes swept over the assembly. The leader of the Turian race kept a vigilant eye on the one person who had yet to speak and had caused the galaxy wide upset: General Desolas Arterius. The shamed General had been strangely silent after returning to the Turian home world. The Turian's once noble and well groomed appearance had become grave and gaunt. His eyes had darkened, his visage become more feral and no matter what expression he made, the general's face always seemed to be enraged.

The Turian race stood on a razors edge. On one hand, they could pursue the humans, but would risk alienating the galactic community and expulsion from the Citadel. On the other, they could abandon the pursuit of the Alliance and focus on preparing for the inevitable war and wait for the Citadel to forget and forgive. Either way, the Turians would lose face to the galaxy. The Turian race would be seen the same as the Krogan. Nothing but blood thirsty, violent, thugs.

That could not be allowed to happen.

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The slums of Shastinasio were disgusting, dark, and largely ignored by the Turian security forces. Invictus' capital city had been the temporary home of XCOM's Wolfpack for little more than three Earth weeks. Their home of the moment was an unfinished housing project that had been left unfinished for some reason or another. The Wolfpack had performed their duties diligently after the initial set up. Beltway had strapped dozens of explosives around the base, and prepped several stockpiles for when they finally made their move. Four-eyes had set up a field lab and kidnapped a new alien nightly. Sadly there was an abundance of Quarians and very few others besides Batarians and Vorcha. Between Bertha's knowledge of biology and Four-eyes medical prowess they had gained plenty of samples to return to Sol. Due to the stealth requirements for the mission, Night Hawk had been forced to stay on board the stealth scout. Without the ship, there was no way to relay or receive orders from the commander.

While the others stayed at the base and kept it well hidden, Lupo, Vector and Spectre spent their time wandering the planet. Thanks to some environmental outfits that had been 'generously donated' by some of Four-eyes Quarian friends the trio could move around the city without risk of compromising their identities. The retrofitted environment suits provided decent disguises with only one flaw. The Quarian's legs were digitigrade, and unfortunately the team couldn't fix that personal detail without a specialized reconstructive surgery. The few others who noticed that detail were quickly eliminated. Sadly it seemed slums were the same amongst all species, as long as the body was stripped of wealth and left in the trash, the authorities were all too willing to write them off as a robbery.

The planet's defenses were easy enough to scout out. The capital was a fort, the only real city worth noting, and the only one with a public spaceport. The first week was spend establishing and securing the their base of operations. The second week was spent distributing Beltway's explosives to key areas, and disguising them to be apart of the target. Hospitals, power hubs, communications arrays. Everything that would be needed during a crisis was targeted, and explosives left in areas of low risk of discovery. The purpose of the bombs was a distraction, to sow chaos instead of to injure. Eventually the city had been seeded with dozens of Beltway's gifts. As an extra special gift, several higher tier explosives had been placed in high population residential areas in the middle class areas, the planet's equivalent to apartment complexes. Rather than chaos, these were designed to kill. The oddly formed buildings collapse would cause a suitably high death toll to help add to the chaos when the real operation began.

With Sadistic glee the team had interrogated a large number of victims, breaking them overtime before allowing Four-eyes to have her way with what was left. The members of the slums knew vary little beyond basic locations and common knowledge. Humanity's wolves would hunt at night. Abducting low risk targets, return them to base, observe a new target, and repeat the next night. The Turian authorities had increased security for the upper class, but the slums and the foolish were still easy pickings. Several overconfident officers had found themselves in the black ops' care. They never lasted the night.

By the end of the third week the team was beginning to become bored, eventually without something new torture of no-name nobodies got old. Lupo was sitting at a makeshift table, nothing more than a slab of stone perched on some construction materials. The leader kept her hands busy, sharpening a combat knife with practiced ease. After a dozen strokes across her blade the earpiece she wore began beeping, most likely another transmission from Night Hawk. With a tap to her ear she activated her receiver, "Lupo, here." she answered, continuing her work.

"The council has given their blessing." replied the voice of Jack Harper, "Black Ops Team Alpha, commence operation outbreak."


	8. Du riecht so gut

Lupo stared at the black case. It was a large square box made of black painted Ethereal alloy. Several varieties of lock covered the hinges of the case. The method to open the case was complex and, sans Night Hawk, required the participation of the entire Wolfpack to open. Lupo had long since entered her code, and had to wait until the rest of the team arrived before they continued. With diligence that came from being a life long mercenary she set up the gear for her team, when they finally arrived they would be able to leave before nightfall.

The team had received the order, but as was their tradition, they were relaxing in their own way. Beltway was disabling and recollecting bomb packs to re-use for the operation humming various Earth songs under his breath. Bertha was snacking while preparing several sample and artefact packs for transport to XCOM HQ. Spectre was watching over the base, keeping a keen eye out for anything that could cause havoc at such a crucial time. The ancient sniper calmed his nerves by chatting with Night Hawk, whom was still in space and waiting for the order to start crippling satellites for comm silence.

Both Vector and Four-eyes had refused to say where they were going, but the team knew they were sneaking off to fuck. The two had been caught several times before, in various positions, but it never stopped them from sneaking away when they had no duties to fulfil. The other members of the Wolfpack had made a bet for who could catch them in the most compromising position. Beltway won the bet after week two, having spotted the amorous pair on a shady slum rooftop in Quarian suits with Vector having bent his Asian partner over the edge. Literally and metaphorically. Lupo verbally tore them to strips for endangering the mission for the sake of sexual thrill, then to the team's amusement she tore into them for 'piss poor bedroom tactics.'

Lupo looked over her reports, looking for any detail relevant for what was planned. The time spent slumming it on Invictus has given them plenty of data for the Alliance. Social details that were common place for many were hard to learn without attracting suspicion. On Invictus the Wolfpack had been able to steal and download the data from hundreds of Omni-tools, copy entire public codex libraries and interrogate dozens of aliens on social issues and political knowledge. Too many of the aliens were desperate to talk, believing that telling everything they knew would save their life.

There had been a few messy incidents. At one point the Wolfpack managed to capture an Asari 'matriarch'. The cerulean skinned alien had been spotted as a prostitute. The team had expected that she would have a decent knowledge of some of the capital's wealthier citizens. Tracking her had been child's play. Taking her down had posed no challenge, even with her natural skill using biotic fields deflecting attacks. It was while she was being transported to the base that a problem occurred.

The Asari had realized her captures were not Quarian and attempted to perform the Asari's mind meld technique with Beltway. The demolitions expert had been reading her mind at the time and decided to let the blue creature try it. the Asari believed her meld would kill the bomber and give her a chance to escape. Beltway felt a small tap on his mind, the equivalent to a Psi-rookie trying his first mind control. The Asari obviously felt a lot more as she screamed in sexual ecstasy before going comatose. Lupo had nearly lost control of the vehicle and upon arrival at the makeshift base had bitch slapped the bomb maker several times, chanting "You! Do! Not! Do! Stupid! Shit! For! No! Reason!" Highlighting each word with a skull cracking smack. Bertha was certain that if Beltway wasn't wearing a helmet he would have lost his head.

Four-eyes had examined both Beltway and the Asari. Beltway showed no signs of trauma, apart from the discipline from Lupo, and his mind was clear of mental contamination that you would expect to find from a victim of any method of mind control. The Asari's results were much more interesting, several scans had shown her to have a radically different neurology than other Asari specimen. Several changes to the brain and accompanying organs showed a massive amount of mental activity. While humanity lacked the knowledge of how Asari melding worked, there were several theories. The most popular theory was that it worked like a temporary and weak version of a two way mind control, the pair would be able to share senses and memories and vaguely make suggestions to each other but little beyond that. If the popular theory was true, this oddball Asari would overload any of her partners without a massive amount of control.

Bertha and Four-eyes continued with dozens of new scans and procedures. Before they could start on a dissection or vivisection the Asari woke up, and thus the complications began. "Hi girls." the Asari shamelessly greeted in perfect English, either ignoring or unconcerned with the fact she was strapped to a cold metal table. "Could you be nice and fetch Lupo for me?" she asked.

The doctors drew pistols and pointed at the alien, "How do you know about Lupo?" Bertha demanded, ignoring the shattered language barrier, "Speak quickly or die!"

The Asari sighed deeply, shrugging her shoulders as best she could, it was a gesture Beltway always did when he was annoyed at having to explain something. "I melded with Beltway." the naked alien explained calmly, "Asari share memories with mates when they link minds. I have a condition that should have killed him when our minds met."

Four-eyes lowered her gun a little, usually the aliens just screamed in terror, this one was a willing tap of information, "So why did you scream like you were having a violent orgasm then pass out?" the scientist asked.

"Or..gasm...?" the Asari questioned slowly, thinking heavily and shuddering, "Oh that... That's because I was having an orgasm. Asari melding is equivalent to sex for us." she explained.

"You kill with sex?" Bertha questioned with a incredulous expression, "What are you? A space succubus?"

The Asari took a moment to think again, "I guess that would be an apt comparison. My species call my kind Ardat-Yakshi. We are the end result of pure Asari breeding with each other and bad luck."

"Why are you telling us this so willingly?" Asked Four-eyes, eyes narrowing with suspicion, "No prisoner gives up so much knowledge without a reason."

The Asari rolled her eyes, another human gesture, "I know full well that your orders are to kill any alien species with knowledge of your mission and I have all of Beltway's memories in my head. If I make myself useful to you and offer to give you whatever you want I have a chance of living longer." The Asari paused before turning to Four-eyes. "By the way, do you really enjoy cross species cosplay sex or was that thing in the Quarian suits just a one time thing?"

Bertha couldn't control her mirth, laughing aloud. "I'll get the boss, you watch her. If she moves, glows, or blushes shoot her."

The prisoner nodded at Four-eyes, "If I make her blush can I go free?"

The introduction of a willing captive changed the mission objectives extensively. Operation Outbreak had to take on a delay as extracting a first hand source of knowledge was a priority above testing a new weapon. The Council had been concerned over the convenient appearance of an Asari turned traitor and thus a meeting of the Alliance military had to commence.

"We will deploy Beta, Delta and Gamma squadrons to Invictus to assist in spreading the prototypes." Harper explained, "The Wolfpack's priority will be the evacuation of the Asari prisoner and the dispersal inside the capital city. To conceal themselves in case of detection the Wolfpack has rebuilt several Quarian environmental suits to fit them and hide their equipment. By the time the other teams have arrived more disguise suits will have been remade and available for pick-up."

"What is the delivery system?" growled a highly decorated officer with genuine curiosity.

"Dr. Knives has created a modified version of the needle grenade we employed during the Ethereal war. Rather than fire alloy needles over an area, this version releases a large number of hypo darts. The darts will not pierce armor and are less effective against anything wearing barriers or shields however they will have no problem infecting civilians. The darts work by injecting a Chrysalids egg into the host body. Because the host isn't dead upon injection it takes longer for the egg to gestate and emerge. Testing on Turians shows that it causes debilitating illness in them and that they die within hours of infection."

"To cause maximum confusion," Harper continued, after a sip of water, "the Wolfpack has placed a large number of explosive packs all over the capital. The bombs have been placed in areas where it will cause the most cosmetic damage, while more focused C-12 plasma packs have been placed on power cables, communication arrays, and roadways. Three of the more powerful devices have been placed at a section of living quarters, the primary hospital and the star port. The hope is that while the government forces attempt to bring order and stop panic, the Chrysalids will have time to grow and spread."

General Williams kindly cut in, "What about reinforcements? Once word reaches that a contamination is spreading and that a species is attacking they will call for help."

"The Planet of Invictus is used by the Turians as a gateway to the black market of the 'Terminus systems'. The planet has a token military force that is established in the capital with eight much smaller outposts on opposite ends of the plant. The security has been noted as purposefully lax so that goods banned by the Citadel can be moved into Turian space." Harper displayed several photographs of important looking homes and well dressed Turians, "According to Intel provided by the Wolfpack, the Turian's leadership keep vacation homes in the tropical belt of Invictus as both a sign of status and to gain access to the less than legal things they desire without having to risk wandering from the safety of Turian territory."

Harper moved as if to grab his cigarette case, but stopped before he could complete the motion, "The Wolfpack pilot is in a stealth frigate above the planet. When the ground forces begin their assault he will begin shooting down any communications satellite in orbit. By the time the Turians establish communications the satellites will be removed. While we don't know enough about Turian communication methods we know that without the common methods available there will be a substantial delay before any aid can be called in. By that time we hope that the planet will have suffered significant losses."

Newly reenlisted Brigadier General Hummel cleared his throat loudly. "What kind of numbers to the Turians have on the ground? How well equipped are they, and do they have air support?"

The XCOM commander glared at Hummel, even during war the mutual dislike and disrespect the two showed each other was present, "Unfortunately the Wolfpack's Intel is limited to the forces in the capital. The Turians seem to operate in brigades, each numbering somewhere between thirty-five hundred to forty-five hundred. The Shastinasio base appears to be loaded with at least twenty brigades, with only two active at a time. There are ten frigate class ships docked at the shipyard, there are also a large number of shuttle class ships. We don't know their range or combat capabilities, but due to a lack of obvious weaponry we believe that they are just civilian transport off world. Their air force is a force to be reckoned with, having large numbers of gunships, attack drones and fighters. "

"Do we know who is in charge of the Colony?"

"Various Turian soldiers interrogated by the Wolfpack have identified the Turian leader as Governor Natal Vakarian." An image of an older Turian with sagging features and a cross shaped scar over his left eye replaced the other displayed pictures, "The Governor is known a General who was severely injured during a crash landing of his ship in the Terminus while on patrol. According to his reputation he not only survived the crash, but prevented the wreckage from being stolen by raiders for about three months before he was found and rescued. He was no longer in any condition to lead so he was given this job as thanks for preventing criminals from securing military technology."

"What do we know about the Turian's methods of quarantine? Do they have any plans when they have to deal with biological contamination?"

Harper took another drink of water, he had been talking for hours and his throat was beginning to feel parched. "The Turians method of dealing with infection, biological weapons, and outbreaks of any sort are short and simple. Contain and burn. They don't try to secure samples or study it. They just kill everything that is a risk. The Asari and Salarians are the thinkers it seems, the Turians are just muscle."

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The death of Invictus started with a simple innocent looking item, a small silver sphere. A bouncing little palm sized ball that could be mistaken for a child's toy or perhaps a over-sized ball bearing.

The metal orb rolled across the floor of an Asari run map store called Baria Frontiers. Inside the store dozens of shoppers merrily browsed star charts and celestial maps, planning vacations or thinking of gifts to send to others. It was just bad luck that a young Batarian lifted the silver coloured ball from the polished floor. Where it had originally rolled most of its cargo would have smashed against the sides of shelves instead of spraying the occupants of the room.

The ball was light, and very reflective. The child shook it in his hands and tossed it back and forth with the carefree ease that only a child could possess. It was to the Batarian boy's surprise when the ball suddenly clicked, opening a minuscule amount and revealing small hints of what was underneath the silver shell. The Batarian leaned in, his four eyes focusing, trying to peer inside the mystery ball. Just as he saw a glint of white, the ball tore open launching itself overhead. The shell torn away the ball was now revealed to be covered in spikes. As one the spikes tore off, flying in wide arcs and impaling themselves into the customers. In other stores across the market district the event played out in food supply stores, medical stores, even mechanical suppliers. Hundreds of people felt the surprising piercing prick of a needle and felt the illness spread from the tainted bite.

Each victim of the spike spheres instantly felt sick, wrong, as if their bodies were rejecting their very essence. Some vomited, some began bleeding from eyes or ears. Some fell unconscious within seconds. Those blessed with biotics tore themselves and those around them apart as they lost control of their power. A Krogan that got caught by a needle was the worst of all, instantly going into a blood rage and attacking everything around them. Those few trained in inter species medical procedures tried to help those who showed signs of illness. Trained biotics rushed to bring down their infected kin before they could do any more damage. The Krogan continued to rage, swinging a ragged sign pole like a war-hammer damaging people and displays alike.

The market dissolved into chaos as the various species either tried to help, or fled from the scene screaming for help. Several of the Turian police force rushed in to help, radioing in for aid. They were met by silence. The team leader looked skyward, noticing several growing pillars of smoke wafting in the air. He listened closely, the sounds of distant explosions reached his ears. Screams outside the markets were growing louder. Sirens rang out, signalling that the City was under attack. Twice more the unit leader tried to call to base in vein, failing to alert the base of a potential biological threat, his third attempt to call was met by an answer. Not from his radio, but from behind him. A primal scream unlike anything he had ever heard before.

The creature was insect-like, with multiple limbs and five digit claws, yellow bulbous eyes stating at him with an limitless hunger. The creature lunged at him, and the soldier barely had time to raise his rifle and fire. "Rachni!" he screamed, terror flooding his veins. The supposed foe of the Citadel races tore into its pray. Biting. Slashing. Tearing. Eating. The Turians watched as their team-mate and leader was slaughtered and eaten in front of them. Training took over. The squad aimed at the beast and released streams of projectiles that pierced and tore at the flesh of the monster, opening holes in its head and chest that nothing could endure and live. The monster fell to the ground, its green and black blood flowing out into a quickly steaming pool.

The relief the team felt from having killed the thing was cut short as the monster's scream was replicated time, after time, after time again. Dozens of the things screamed and shrieked and howled. The sounds of a stampede of movement echoed around the now terrified Turians. A rapid chattering and clatter of movement came from the insides of many buildings. Brief bursts of gunfire and people screaming for aid rang out. Not as a group, but individuals screaming their last in defiance of a force that just didn't care.

More of the monsters entered the streets, each one sniffing the air. Following the scents of those who fled in fear. It started slowly, one or two at a time leaving a building to be gun downed by the team. But more came, soon dozens at a time came closer and closer. Each wave gaining ground as they passed the old. Several men panicked, noticing that some corpses disappeared with each wave. A mist was flowing in, a rare event in the tropical belt. As it flowed in the men felt weaker, fatigued. Some felt the bile rise in them, either from the sent of the dead or the mist they weren't sure.

A not so subtle splat of wet cloth falling drew their attention behind them. The corpse of their commander stood upright, half his right arm gone, an un-bleeding wound where his jaw should be. The thing growled at them in a haunting parody of the creatures they had been killing. It lunged at them, as the 'dead Rachni' from before rose to join him.

The newest wave fed.

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Shastinasio was burning. In less than fifteen minutes hundreds of bombs had activated, sowing chaos and destruction upon the capital city. People were in the streets, fearful and panicked. Fires had broken out in multiple sectors, the flames causing the evacuation of multiple residential sections. The law abiding citizens fled to the base district of the capital, expecting safety amongst the Turian military. The criminal scum of the planet had other ideas, with communication and power cut in many areas it was the perfect moment to steal, raid, rape, and pillage.

Batarian slavers grabbed whom they could off the streets, thinking of a quick pay-day. Quarians who had become lost or indebted on their pilgrimage to adulthood grabbed at valuable machinery, computer, even stole cars or shuttles. Asari mercenaries peddled their talents to both the military and the civilians. Those who could find a way to take advantage of the crisis did, unaware that they were only making the disaster worse.

Governor-General Natal was not pleased, not pleased at all. His untamed anger radiating from his persona, struck into the hearts of even the most bravest men under his command as they covered away from the imposing veteran in balant fear. Purposefully, Natal strode into the CIC (Command-Intelligence-Center) controlling the entirety of Invictus defence force. Communication and Intelligence officers were scrambling around there posts desperately trying to make sense of the information maelstrom they were getting. The confusion was abondently clear and it sickened Natal beyond imagination. To see Turian soldiers; Turians, having thrown in such disarray was shameful. But there was nothing Natal could do but make the best off it.

"Report!" barked Natal and immediately the XO (executive officer); one Tarkan Vintus, dutifully responded over the nearly deafening cries and barks of orders coming from the confused officers " Sir! Numerous bombing attacks all over the planet, main targeted area seems to be the capital, Shastinasio, with seventy-eight separate bombings still counting. No accurate estimation on casualties at the moment sir, is simply not possible, the civilian services are stretched thin. We have also reports of similar attacks all across the planet. Criminal elements are on an all high it's an open buffet for these rats. Stealing. Rioting. Countless accidents. It's an outright mess, sir."

Natal gave out a low threatening growl from his throat and it took all of his self control not to dismiss and execute the officers who ran around the CIC like headless pyjaks. The actions of the criminal elements were worrisome, they could seriously hamper or worse entirely halt any attempt to restore order. Natal knew that they had to act quickly, thus he swiftly moved towards the large holotable in the middle of the room with remarkable elegance given his age and gazed with steely confidence at the Area of Operations.

The Battlefield.

His home.

Natal suppressed a shudder and spoke loudly "Verging by the fact that most of my Command Staff acts in NO WAY like proper Turian officers, the best in the galaxy, their shameful behaviour is most likely a possible result losing our entire communications array AND our satellite array. Planet and Orbital wise, correct?!"

The shameful look from his XO was all Natal needed and he felt how his fiery red hot temper demanded to burst through and discipline his subordinates properly. With a snarl Natal turned back to the strategic map of the Planet.

Their communication array both on the ground and in space had been eliminated through unknown means. They even took out the com satellites at the Relay which served as an emergency beacons which should have jumped straight to Palven High COM in time of need. Whoever was responsible for these attacks was thorough. With only short range transmissions as the only means of communication there was a severe lack of accurate information. They now had to put their faith into runners carrying important orders and information which took a whole lot time, as the unit and single soldier radiopack was very limited and these attacks or to be precise this eerie, alien green fog was causing a lot of interference. Officers in the streets were reporting slavers, muggings, murders, damage from bombs, fires, and even reports of a green gas that was making people sick.

"Status of our frigates." Natal demanded his eyes scanning the map of the capital city of Invictus, Shastinasio. It was as if the city had been ravaged by a Thresher Maw. Red dots were all over the blueish image of the once proud city, covering entire city blocks and were contentiously growing. What ever it was the chaos was spreading fast.

"Sir. The Space-port had also been hit specifically the Military Bay with the frigates at dry dock. Eight are out of combat. One has malfunctioning FTL drive, few KIA's and the last one is just an empty shell. It's entire crew fell victim to the bombings and this weird toxic gas. There were no survivors."

Natal let out a breath of sheer frustration before composing himself and return to the task a head.

"Activate all brigades and have them on standby. " Commanded the Governor-General. "Assign one brigade to assisting civilian services. We need to get those fires out and calm the civilians. But most importantly I want to know what in the Spirits name is going in this damned city. No unnecessary risks."

"What about the reports of a biological contamination...this green gas that has been found in scattered areas?" questioned an adviser.

Natal considered for a moment before responding confidently "Have the brigade be equipped with HAZMAT suits and that their rules of engagements are for biological warfare. They know what to do."

"This is a Terrorist attack." muttered Natal to himself as he analysed the situation, "Alright here is the game-plan: First we secure the city and re-establish the most strategically important points and block this enemies movement as much as possible. Here, here, here, here and here." Natal highlighted several key location around the vicinity of the city and it's state. Highways, bridges, small villages, mountain ranges giving the forces good vantage point and a well defend-able position to establish a Forward Operation Base. "Once we have gridlocked the entire planet and ensured that whoever is responsible for these attacks is boxed in we'll destroy them with extreme prejudice. Two brigades will sweep the city sector by sector, and search for any signs of anything the smallest bit suspicious that may be our attackers. Every other brigade not tasked with the blocking off the enemies movement is to set-up Forward Operation Bases to further ensure military logistics are running flawlessly and command structure in the area is secured. In the meantime, get Sky Marshall Arierius on the horn. I want that last frigate up in the air and to sweep the planet and check in with the other outposts. Have his complete division on standby and get his UAV's up. Have them check for any sign of attackers across the planet."

"Right away sir. Should we alert Palaven command?" inquired one of his aides.

The Governor shook his head in the negative, "Whomever did this not only crippled every array we have on the ground, but has been disabling our satellites in orbit. It will take time to restore a long range relay to the point it would be able to transmit off world."

"Who would do this? Batarians perhaps?"

"The Hegemony wouldn't risk their precious trade route into Turian territory." disagreed Natal, "Invictus is the only planet we let their illegal wares past inspection. If Invictus is ruined so is a large percent of their black market. But don't worry soldier, once we find out whoever bastards did this to our homes, we'll hang 'em on a tree."

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"Turians are such easy pray for wolves." Bertha thought as her cleaver tore into the neck of a guard as she twirled and spun, the rounds of her alloy pistol ripping into the skull of another unfortunate Turian with lethal force. They used predictable conventional military tactics. Foolish ideas against a team of killers. Several squads of the alien guards had gotten too close to the market district had had been quickly drawn into ambushes and disposed of. Spectre covered the area with his rifle, Beltway left laser trip-wire mines all around, and Vector had discovered a new joy in leading idiotic soldiers into batches of Chrysalids. Lupo patrolled the area, ensuring the newborn Chrysalids had time to reach maturity.

Squads of Turian soldiers were on patrol across the city, the lucky ones died a quick death from the traps and ambush tactics of the Wolfpack. The unlucky ones wandered into the areas overrun by the Chrysalids. While the purpose of Operation Outbreak was to see if the Chrysalids would make an usable bio-weapon, the XCOM operatives wanted to delay their discovery as long as possible.

The monsters were breeding faster than predicted. Unlike their ancestors the new breed could spawn multiple young from a single corpse. The Chrysalids had been designed as a perfect killing tool, and they lived up to the expectation. No matter what resistance was thrown at them, or how much firepower was used against them, the giant insects would swarm over all resistance. Every one cut down, two would take its place, followed shortly by the one you thought you killed. Every injury the Chrysalids suffered from poured more poison into the air, weakening those stupid enough to breathe in the gas.

After only an hour the market district had been overrun with the beasts. The constant stream of criminals seeking to profit off of the disasters by stealing from the stores were quickly reduced to incubators for the new species. What started in the dozens was quickly rushing into the tens of thousands. Unless slain from total destruction of the head and chest the insects would grow back, their abnormal biology made worse by the regenerative properties they held. Packs of the spider like horrors spread like wildfire, hunting down everything they could sense. Homes were ripped into, their terrified dwellers pulled screaming from hiding places and used to feed the nightmare that claimed their lives. The Wolfpack watched it all with excitement and joy.

"I think I would call this a successful test run, eh boss?" Beltway chuckled. "By the time the metal heads get their asses in gear they will be over run!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself Beltway." replied Spectre, staring down his scope at something, "The Turians are treating this as a terrorist attack. Not a biological outbreak or invasion. The moment they notice the bugs they will put up a defence."

"We will need to ensure the outbreak spreads." agreed Lupo, "The Commander wants us to ensure that not only does this place burn for Shanxi, but the Commander has also stated that we are to frame the Quarians for this as best we can."

"Whats the plan then?" Vector questioned, adjusting his disguise. The damned skin-tight suits never felt right to him. "Attack the Turians and speak in Quarian?"

"Exactly."

"You can't be serious..." Beltway dead-panned, "Why the hell would that even work?"

"We're not sure it will." Four-eyes answered, "Our initial projections were based off a more combat capable Chrysalids, not a strain that is super strong and breeds like rabbits. Our initial estimation was that the things would overwhelm the planet in days. At the rate they are going they will overrun everything but the remote populations within thirty-six hours. That's at their slowest and only counting our outbreak. If the other teams are progressing at the same speed, the planet will be covered in Chrysalids in less than twenty hours."

The team was silent, the absence filled by the crackle of fire and sound of screams, both killers and victims. Around them, the once great capital continued to fall apart as the dead rose in one form or another to kill the living.

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Patrol unit seven was in charge of investigating the market district. After the start of the attack, the Turian 22' Anvil Brigade moved into the Capital on QRF duty. Their job was to organize with the civil services still active in these hot zone or 'red zones' over a dozen different squads had been sent in and had yet to check in. With communications and power still cut the only option this brave brigade had was to rely on runners and their short range radio-packs. Upon entering the city the brigade split it's forces: One half; Anvil Actual, secured an large enough area that has not been ravaged by these vicious attacks and the following riots and set up an Base of Operations. A safe haven for any refugees they might find. The other half; Anvil Hammer, would follow commands instructions and recon the area search for survivors, escort them to the hastily build up safe haven and most importantly find targets; the ones responsible for these attacks. Thus the two hundred soldiers from Beta company were sent in to sweep the southern area of the market, a reported ground zero of the attacks and find out what was going on. What they found was a blood bath.

Bodies of the population lay upon the ground in puddles of multicoloured blood. Chunks of flesh were scattered about shredded and ripped, some still connected by threads of skin. Signs of struggle filled the shops: displays overturned, doors broken inward, puncture holes from gunfire littered the walls and floor. And the blood. So much blood. Entire rooms had been smeared with the violently shed life giving liquid. Far more than the number of bodies that lay forgotten on the cold unforgiving ground.

The Lieutenant frowned. There was just too much blood here. The blood almost reached the soldiers hips, however they had yet only accounted a dozen bodies. Where were the rest?

"Lieutenant, what the hell is this?" questioned a grunt, nervously scratching his uncomfortable, skin-tight HAZMAT suit. The Turian was unnerved, many of them were. Their eyes danced across this grotesque scenery and their guns twitched, continuously shifting from one place to another, expecting an attack from this unimaginable evil that lurked behind the shadows.

The Lieutenant kept a calm expression, hiding his disgust at the scattered gore, "Keep your weapons ready." He pointed at a small group of five, "You five head back to the garrison, report what we've found, warn command that this is not a simple terrorist attack! We need reinforcements now!"

The squad took off running as if the spirits of the dead were in pursuit. The Lieutenant faced the remaining troops. "Split into groups of twelve and search for survivors, if you find anything of use burst transmission to alert the unit. We meet back here in thirty."

The large group of soldiers split as ordered, each picking a store. The stores were almost all the same. Blood, gore, bodies and death. It was in the thrashed remains of the Baria Frontiers that the patrol caught a break. Swiftly alerting the unit they ran back to the group with their found treasure.

"Corporal, can you get anyone else of Anvil Hammer on the horn?" asked the Lieutenant their radioman, who was fumbling with the controls of his device.

"Nothing, just gibberish or static. Way too much interference. Possibly from that weird smoke shit covering half the city. Maybe if we get on higher ground I might get through to the others."

The Lieutenant shook his head in a negative and was getting impatient, clearly unsettled by the death still around him. Call it instinct but the Lieutenant just had this weird feeling. His skin was tickling , his blue blood ran cold in his veins. He felt like prey being watched and stalked by an dark unforgiving predator. "What did you find?" he demanded as he saw one group of twelve soldier jogging towards him. Immediately the Lieutenant noticed the wide pupils of his subordinates saw nothing but bone chilling terror in their eyes.

"Sir we have a copy of the security cameras from a store. You won't believe this." The grunt stammered out nervously . He activated his omni-tool and displayed a video, the orange tint not taking away from the scene replaying in front of their eyes.

A Quarian woman walked into the store, partially hidden from view by a shelf. The Quarian woman barely entered and bent low to roll a small silver object across the floor, then left with noticeable haste. The unit watched as the Batarian child lifted the device. There was no love between the Batarians and Turians, but across all Citadel species children were sacred. They watched the device sprang open in the child's hand and the darts spread like an unholy web. With a feeling of hopelessness they watched their people fall to disease in an instant. After minutes of suffering, spikes started erupting from inside the infected bodies. The spikes grew larger, and with terrible spurts of blood the infected ripped open, replacing an abomination from the desecrated remains.

"Spirits save us." Muttered one soldier, "It's a new breed of Rachni..." The video continued, displaying the slaughter that lay around them. They stood entranced as the new strain of Rachni killed and ate their people, only to watch the dead rise up to aid their murderers before becoming Rachni themselves.

Many of the troops turned to their commander with fear in their eyes and terror in their hearts. "What do we do, Sir?"

Before the Turian commander could answer, a terrible, bone chilling scream rattled the air around them, the start of a symphony that no mortal could stand with a sane mind. The sounds of insect like chittering echoed in the empty streets. "I've got movement!" a grunt yelled, opening fire. "They're behind us!" Another cried. "We're Surrounded!"

The Lieutenant spotted the horde, the new Rachni pouring from rooftops, doorways and windows. They emerged from allies and vents. As one they charged into the gunfire, shrugging off wounds and attacks. Grenade blasts scattered the horde, bullets slowed them, but they kept coming.

"Fire!" bellowed the Turian commander to his men only to witness sheer insanity. His comrade and friends were getting butchered left and right. Torn limp from limp. Eaten. Mutilated.

Everything moves in a blur mind boggling whirlwind of blood and guts.

"Retreat! Fall back to Anvil Actual! Alert command!" The Lieutenant cried, as fired into the swarm. The Turian tried to turn to run, only to be clipped by the still firing rifle of a slain grunt. The troops obeyed the command, rushing as fast as they could, leaving their Lieutenant behind. The soldier kept shooting, until one of the Rachni bit his arm, nearly severing the limb and forcing him to release the gun.

The Turian screamed in pain, as the Rachni flung him to the ground. Their claws had shredded his armor, his body felt inflamed, possibly from venom.

Then as one the yellow eyes of the Rachni flashed violet, before they backed away slowly. The Lieutenant lay helpless on the ground, hoping for a quick death. The calm steady thud of boot covered footsteps approaching encouraged him to move. With a godly strain he rolled onto his back, and stared at the uncaring visage of half a dozen black clad Quarians.

One approached, a female, It bent low with a knife in its hand. "Hello Turian," she hissed, "your lucky. Did you know that?"

"Whys that?" The Lieutenant coughed out, "need some loving?" he asked with false bravado.

"Cute." the Quarian woman replied, before shoving the knife handle deep into the Sargent's already injured arm. "Are you ready to be serious now?" She asked, twisting the blade slightly. The Lieutenant screamed in pain, thrashing about on the ground. The Chrysalids skittered about, the spray of blood exciting them.

"What do you suit rats want?!" The soldier barked out in pain.

"Not smart to insult the people whom hold your life in their hands." The knife was removed with another squirt of blue blood, inspiring the Rachni to shuffle about again. "Your going to deliver a message to the Governor."

"And what..." ground out the Lieutenant, staring at her legs, "pray tell, is that?"

The Quarian woman stood up, the knife still held threateningly in her hand. "Tell the governor to leave the planet to us, this is our world now."

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Lupo stood beside Spectre an hour later, both staring down at the Turian's field command post. "Did he make it back to their base?" she asked the sniper.

"He made it..." Spectre replied slowly, "I guess the bloody knife worked then."

"Indeed," Lupo remarked, "I guess this means we shouldn't bleed on them if we want the Chrysalids to eat them." The mercenary mother activated her comm. "Four-eyes is the missile ready yet?"

"Ready, Lupo." The scientist replied, "Ready for me to launch?"

"Team check in, who took the pills?" Lupo radioed to the team.

"Vector here, taken."

"Four-eyes, taken."

"Beltway here, I took the fucking pills."

"Specter here... Took them."

"Bertha, taken."

Lupo closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the soon to be poisoned air, "Four-eyes, Launch the missile."

From the smouldering blood soaked market district a lone missile launched. A white cylinder spear that rushed from the ruins into the skies above the city. The missile was instantly shot at by several Turian weapons as it ascended to the heavens. Eventually the Turian projectiles struck their target, and the missile exploded in mid-air. The missile released a red cloud as it erupted in fire and shrapnel.

The smoke drifted to the ground, saturating the city with its particles. Across the city the Chrysalids horde screamed in blood lust, rushing into the cloud with reckless, wild hunger. The horde swarmed the city, driven by the chemicals in the air. The massacres of the market were repeated in a hell spawned cycle. The monsters natural ferocity was only amplified by the cloud. Each victim added to the swarm, each drop of blood added to their ecstasy filled frenzy.

As the swarm grew, Invictus died.


	9. Planet of the Damned

If there would be one word to describe the current situation, it was chaos. Just Chaos. Plain and simple.

At Invictus High Command the Turians were still trying to gather their wits over what had happening on the planet: civilians rioting on the streets, bandits and opportunists using this chance to profit in this despicable situation. Squads, platoons, entire brigades went of the grid within seconds. Wiped out to their last man. By something evil, something so sinister and dark, it would and will, once it left the planet into the wilderness of the galaxy bring cataclysmic destruction to the Citadel space. The people of Invictus did not fathom the importance of the battle they were currently fighting, but they would soon. All to soon.

One of the forces fighting of this insidious plague was the 22' Anvil Brigade which had now been in the Capital for almost twenty hours since the start of these terrible attacks. The highest ranking officer of this brigade was Major Eros Tamos, ever since the death of their previous commander Colonel Tallus Hastiti and he hated every second of his command. Ever since they had gotten into this god forsaken city it went downhill from there. They should have foreseen the signs. The desolated outskirts, wrecked cars. The bodies. Shot, beaten, mutilated.

When their commander Colonel Hastiti had ordered the split into two sub units and tried; key word tried, to establish a Base of Operations and a Safe Haven for possible refugees. Which ended up being a large mall and the garage. As their lookout station and com relay served the local water-tower that towered over every building in the area of ten kilometers with its three-hundred and fifty meter height.

Within this complex forty percent of the colonies water supply was stored. A high value, strategic and tactical target of utmost importance. Swiftly Anvil Actual began it's work and fortified their location by the books. Fifteen meter high quick deployable containment and defense walls. Machine guns and sniper posts every hundred meters and fifty meters on the wall respectively. Foxholes and trenches outside and inside the Base/Safe Haven at a distance of three-hundred meters. Mines and spring guns at a distance of five-hundred meters. A safe passage and 'buffer zone' was created so that panicked civilians would not accidentally trigger the defense mechanisms and a prosecution area has been created to take 'stock' of the refugees and handle the resources. All according to plan and done by the books. However that was eighteen hours ago.

Now they were cut off and had lost all signs and radio feedback from any squad and company from Anvil Hammer. One thousand-seven hundred men possibly missing or dead. Probably the latter. Anvil Actual hadn't fared any better. Their onslaught, there wasn't any better word Eros would've described this situation, upon the safe haven that could have only managed five thousand people was being flooded with a number nearly ten times larger than expected or capable to handle for the 22' Anvil Brigade.

Never before had Eros seen something so terrible and horrible that it was impossible for him to describe. Men and Women stomped to death by their panicked neighbors, children torn apart or suffocated beneath the pile of bodies that started to form beneath the busy feet of the refugees. Fighting occurred making it near impossible for the outnumbered Turian soldiers to restore order. Some of the refugees even used improvised weaponry. Bright flames and the distinct smell of burned bodies erupted right in the middle of the panicked crowd. The Colonel tried to appease and bring order into this panicked which ranted about some beings in the dark, towering over the largest Elcor. Feeding off the nightmares and fears of their victims as they plant their seed into the perished victims, not granting them any rest only further torment in death.

Colonel Hastiti waved their concerns off with practiced ease. "These are just terrorist attacks, we will find and punish them and then you can return safely to your homes with your families happily united." he told them with practiced dismissal. That kept on until someone in the crowd had enough and shot the poor Colonel in the throat. As their commanding officer died in agony the civilians tried to stage a raid, forcefully trying to gain entrance into this safe haven.

The Turians opened fire in both retaliation and primal fear, massacring almost five hundred people that they were supposed to protect. For nearly eight hours the Turian forces and mere civilians armed with nothing but their fists fought over the control of this safe haven and base of operations. Civilians even built an hastily improvised catapult to gain entrance and break the Turian barricades. Countless dozens organized themselves into a fighting force, using simple sky car doors and other materials as shields.

The fighting was fierce and neither side gave any quarter. The civilians acted like caged animals, backed against a corner with no way out except to force themselves a way out. Eros cursed as another stray shot passed by his head by mere millimeters as muscle memory took action and he literally threw himself flat on his face, crawling into a section of crumbled stone wall that would barely serve as cover. In this battle alone the Turians had suffered casualties up to nearly thirty percent of their assigned forces and they had yet to face the enemy.

"_What in the name of Spirits is going on here?! What has happened that made these people so desperate?!"_ Eros thought as he waved over an radioman who had a badly warped bandage over his head covering his left eye. Blue, dirty blood poured out of numerous wounds. Non fatal but they did their damage on the soldiers morale. The young radioman's eyes were wide in fear and he quivered in an almost unnoticeable way.

Eros gritted his teeth and barked loudly over the deafening sounds of gun fire "Did you get anyone from Invictus command on the radio?" he bellowed, "Have our squads managed to place any of the Com receivers for the spirits-be-damned fire support!?"

The Radioman threw himself to the ground as the iconic whistling of the deadly sand grain sized bullets skittered over the poor soldiers head. The Major growling in frustration grabbed the frightened soldier by his shoulders, pulled him up to eye height and shook him like a madman before yelling, "Did they succeed?!"

The Radioman vigorously shook his head before yelling at the Major in response in blatant fear, "N-no, No Sir!" he replied, "The scouting detail is KIA, We've lost contact with every single squad of Lima Company and Alpha has yet to report in! Sentry squads have gone dark over five minutes ago!"

"Spirits be damned!" Eros cursed as he placed the frightened radioman into the piece of cover before making a mad dash into the inner perimeter of the base of operations which they have dubbed SE-01, or 'at hell's gate' as some soldiers started to call it.

"_Another three-hundred...possibly six-hundred dead. Plus or minus two-hundred unaccounted for. We're getting completely butchered here._" The Major thought as he breathlessly entered the garage which served as the HQ of Anvil Brigade. Wounded lay every where and Eros had to fight down a bile in his throat at the sight of his mutilated men and women. "_I wonder how the rest of the planet looks like? Not any better if this is any indication for the colonies situation._"

Suddenly he heard someone frantically yelling his name and he forced his way through the busy soldiers and medics towards the radio center. "Major! The radios hot!" exclaimed an excited Turian soldier, a Corporal, newly 'promoted'.

The Major quickly composed himself and gave the soldier a grateful nod as he strode over to the radio post. "Alpha did it, I don't know how, but they did it! However we should make this count and quick, we are unsure how long it'll hold." the Corporal said his tone quickly turning somber.

An ominous, bad feeling arose within Eros as he warily asked "Right, Alpha's status?"

"Dismal." the Corporal reported as if shot out of a gun. "Half of their company has been wiped out by unknown enemies and... they have made teamed up with Anvil Hammer. Or what's left of them anyway." the soldier muttered lowly at the end.

Making no further comment aside from grumbling disapprovingly before he stood over the radio and opened the frequency to Invictus HighCOM. The sight that greeted him did nothing to soothe his already strained and dare he say it panicked feelings.

A tired and emotionally drained Governor-General Natal Vakarian was on the other side of the Com. Things must be bad to get the Old Man out of his element. "Anvil, you are a sight to a set of very sore eyes, do you know that? What's your situation on the ground, commander?"

The Major collected himself and swiftly responded "Rioters have us surrounded. They are like savage, desperate animals sir! We lost almost fifty percent of Anvil Actual Forces. We have managed to secure over twenty-three hundred civilian refugees but they are close to panicking and if we have to fight them to you'll only find our remaining tags sir. NO, I repeat No, contact with any hostile forces suspected inside the city. Requesting permission to retreat."

"Granted. Take as many civilians as you can. FOB 0-3 will punch a hole through the enemy lines at the east and make you a path with artillery and air support. Alpha and the rest of Anvil Hammer will cover your exit. Once link up has been made pull back to this location. We are digging in gentleman. I have updated your omni-tool. Spirits be with you." Natal spoke with an air of confidence and purpose. That slightly helped the Major's morale and he ended the transmission with an muttered "May the Spirits be with us all, General."

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Everything had gone so smoothly for the XCOM Black Ops. Invictus was burning, the Chryssalids were slaughtering Turians, The prisoner was secured at the construction site and there had been some evidence to suggest that A radical group in the Citadel races had created this catastrophe for some unknown cause. All that had been left for the Wolfpack had been the rendezvous and evacuation from the planet before they got caught or killed.

The Rendezvous point was set up just outside the capital. With the power to the Anti-Aircraft turrents cut by the initial explosions there was no risk of getting shot down during the evac. The original plan had been for the Wolfpack and prisoner to leave the city at the height of the outbreak by seizing control of a shuttle, using the chaos to cover their escape as just another evacuation vessel. However recovering the prisoner had been made several times more complicated when they discovered her fighting against a red clad Asari. The corpses of several Chryssalids lay around them, crushed by debris or ripped apart with biotics. Construction material was scattered around in deformed piles, damaged from being thrown about or used as weapons no doubt.

Beltway paused, displaying a previously unknown love for blue alien women based cat fights, "Who the hell is that?" he asked, watching as the prisoner was flung into a wall. Noticeable dents beside her point of impact would suggest that it hadn't been the first time.

Spectre aimed his rifle at the attacking stranger, the stolen Devlon rifle pointing at her legs, "Say the word Lupo." the sniper stated. Their prisoner had slumped against the wall and had conjured a weak and transparent barrier to shield herself from further attacks. The red clad Asari flared her biotics, no doubt preparing to overwhelm the defensive barrier and kill the prisoner.

Lupo drew her own pistol, and fired two warning shots between the two. The Wolfpack kept their weapons cocked and ready to shoot the first blue bitch that moved. Hidden behind her Quarian mask, Lupo frowned, unexpected developments like this usually had an aggravating reason behind it. "Who are you?" she asked.

The red clad Asari stood up straight, but the Wolfpack's keen eyes could see she was still tense enough to lunge at their prisoner, "My name is Samara, a servant of the Justicar code. My quarrel is with my daughter, but I see six well armed strangers before me."

Beltway lowered his gun slightly, his head tilted slightly to the side, "Daughter...?" He raised his gun and would have shot at her if Bertha had not chosen that moment to grab the end of the gun and give him a questioning glare.  
Lupo didn't look at her squad, instead choosing to keep her eyes on the newer Asari. "What does a Justicar want with our prisoner?" she questioned, finger still on the trigger.

"This Ardat-Yakshi is a fugitive who has committed numerous crimes across the galaxy. She must be executed." Samara stated bluntly. "She kills all who she mates with and is suspected of hundreds of murders on dozens of worlds."

Lupo sighed, rolling her eyes behind her mask, "I don't suppose the fact that we intend to kill her after we take what we want from her would be enough to let her go?"

Samara stared at Lupo, her eyes narrowing in suspicion, "Who are you. Your legs are that of Asari, yet you lack knowledge of what I am. You wear Quarian garb, yet are not of their people." Samara unholstered a rifle from her back, aiming it at her injured daughter but keeping her eyes on the Wolfpack. A biotic charge up began to bloom in her off-hand, the energy brightening as she prepared to defend herself.

"That's not your concern Justicar. We will take our prisoner and leave, whether you like it or not." Lupo replied, gesturing to Spectre, "Kill her." She commanded.

Samara had no time to pull the trigger before a bullet from Spectre's rifle knocked the rifle wide, the assault rifle barrage of rounds forced to go off target. Vector rushed at the Justicar in an instant, knife and pistol in hand. The Monomolecular edge blade aiming for the Asari's heaving chest. Before Samara could feel the cold bite of Vector's thrust, she erupted in the dark blue flair of biotics, launching the blade wielding assassin aside and wrapping herself in a defensive barrier. The Prisoner took the opportunity to survive, running to the Wolfpack, and ducking behind cover with them.

"Fucking space magic..."Beltway muttered, spraying the alien woman with a swarm of mass accelerator rounds. The stolen projectile weapon's ammo bounced aside, easily deflected by the combination of military grade shields and Asari barrier techniques. "Remind me again, why the hell couldn't I bring my baby?"

"Quit your bitching Beltway!" Bertha yelled, dodging the remains of a blue glowing dumpster that had been hurled at her, the scrapped container missed by inches. "There is more important issues at hand than your love for an antique scatter laser rifle!"

The Justicar moved quickly, ducking and dodging constantly. The constant evasive maneuvers supplying her with plenty of debris based ammo and cover. Without a direct line of sight the Wolfpack couldn't guarantee their psionics would hit properly, unfortunately biotics didn't have that issue. The Justicar would fling anything and everything around her that was not tied down at them. Behind the XCOM soldiers, the prisoner was performing some emergency first aid with the help of Four-eyes. Torn strips of cloth and some metal rods were converted into a makeshift splint for the wounded Asari's broken left arm.

A beeping from Four-eyes wrist interrupted the stalemate. The field scientist checked her gauntlet computer, typing in several commands a minute."Another group of the Chryssalids is approaching! Judging from the pheromone output they've caught the scent of the Asari. If we're going to get the prisoner out of here alive, we have to go now Lupo!"

Lupo nodded, "Beltway, plasma blast. Vector get the air-car. Spectre, put her down. Bertha, Four-eyes blow the base! We're leaving!"

"About fucking time!" Beltway claimed, tearing an Alliance grenade belt from a side pouch, "I'm gonna enjoy this you bitch!" He proclaimed, ripping the pins out and tossing the belt at the Justicar.

The Asari grabbed the bomb pack with her biotics, her eyes widening in surprise when the belt erupted with a cascading emerald flame. The force of the explosion slammed against her biotic barriers with astounding force and launched her skyward, skidding off of several roofs before coming to rest in a smoking heap several buildings away.

Spectre looked at Beltway, and the bomber knew the sniper was looking at him with a questioning gaze. "What?" Beltway defended, "Lupo told me to!"

"It was...Overkill." Spectre replied, slowly.

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Back in Invictus HighCOM Natal shook his head and turned to his XO Tarkan Vintus. The Governor-General's voice was rough, like dust covered gravel, "XO, mark Anvil brigade as pending. And give Sky Marshall Arierius the go word. Shastinasio is now a free fire zone in exactly two hours. Authorization for over-horizon missiles granted. Once we have raised the city's defenses and locked the enemy inside that town I want it erased from this very planet."

The XO saluted before asking uncertainly "Sir? I thought we were going to pull this one out of the fire."

"Look around you Vintus forty percent of our forces have gone dark and half of the population is dead by these things! Now I don't give a shit if it's Shastinasio, Invictus, Palaven or the fucking Citadel! We will burn out this infection until it's is gone from the galaxy! Whatever the cost!"

"Sir!" Vintus replied, visibly and thoroughly chastised.

"Invictus is nothing in face of the other option." A involuntary shiver ran down Natal's spine as he continued with an ice cold, ruthless voice that sent chills down everyone's spine "Just burn it. Just fucking burn it ! Burn it all until it's clean!"

Taking a steadying breath Natal refocused on the map and dearly regretted it almost immediately. More than a third of the planet was blood red in color. Lost territory. Natal thought bitterly as he let his eyes wander over the map taking in the dire situation. Numerous gray areas had been marked. Some ranging from 14.000 km² up to 50- or 100.000 km². These were the areas where even the brass wasn't sure if they had control over it or not. It seemed as if they were actively kept in the dark by some unseen force.

Areas and territories that the Turian forces had control over were marked in blue. Although it was a tad of depressing. To watch these areas shrink ever so slowly, as if a unstoppable flood forced it's way into the lands of Invictus proud people, until inevitably the whole sector was lost.

Anvil brigade was now the ninth brigade to have been their status marked as pending. Five brigades have been confirmed KIA. So that effectively made the losses number over fifty-thousand, nearly more than half of Natal's armed forces.

"_And that's not going into detail with the civilian casualties."_ Natal thought, his mind running a race to come up with an solution to this nightmarish situation. His keen eyes scanned his the map as he realized that the Shastinasio Base was most likely lost. They had been forced to relocate when the new breed of Rachni attacked the base fifteen hours ago. It was a slaughter. Natal honestly couldn't describe it any other way. They had lost more than half of the defense forces of the base. Hundreds were MIA.

It was horrific. Blue, black in color. A set of jaw's strong enough to shatter and rip apart a full grown Krogan. Natal knew because he had seen it. Immediately afterward to the horror of everyone watching it, the Rachni gave out an ear deafening shriek before it bent over the mutilated body and seemingly planted something into the carcass with its fanged mouth. Seconds later the carcass started to shift. It twisted and turned, vicious shifting and internal struggling as if the very body was trying to tear itself apart. Then It started to rise. Never in his life before was Natal more terrified than in that moment. This was the last thing he saw of the nature defying creature before some of his soldiers snapped him out of his daze. He was evacuated out of Shastinasio Base, heading towards the new Invictus HighCOM in the towering mountains of the planet, covering the rear of the smallest spaceport of this colony, Al Turkan private spaceport.

This was the first impression on the enemy and Natal didn't like it one bit. From what he heard from surviving squads and soldiers, mostly the latter who were so traumatized they did nothing else but babble and drooling non stop, that these enemies were a new breed of Rachni. A chilling, awfully terrible thought, that was enough to send lesser men and soldiers into blind panic. Everyone had heard of the horrors of the Rachni war, but to see it first hand surpasses everything. This breed of Rachni reproduces themselves from the dead of his own soldiers and people. The more they killed , the more of these Rachni appeared. They festered upon the very essence of life it self. An seemingly endless resource of reinforcements.

Realizing that containment would fail eventually Natal and his subordinate officers agreed upon the strategy of scorched earth. Massive artillery and air barrages upon designated 'Free Fire Zones'. Two major protection zones would be created. One would be the spaceport and the other would be the mountain range were Invictus High Command was located. Their main objective would be the focus of evacuation of the civilians. Due to lack of spaceflight capable ships the time it would take to properly evacuate the colony and it's remaining citizens would take five weeks. Military advisers estimated that the military could only hold out against such an force for ony little more than three days. Probably less. The hard part was to tell this plan to his soldiers, as Natal feared their reactions. It could very much likely shatter what morale they had left.

"Listen up people, we are digging in. Here are your new orders: Establishment of defensive perimeters at the mountain range and the spaceport. Our Goal, is the evacuation civilians." He paused, drawing in a deep breath, it would hurt to say this next part, "That's right we are retreating. Free Fire Zones will be designated as we speak and the _Impending Justice_ will give us what support she can give. All we have to do is to hold our ground and ensure the safety of our friends and families so that they can escape these monsters. Because if we fail, our children, wives, brothers and sisters will have to face a fate worse than death. We shall not allow this! The resurfacing of the Rachni threat most be reported to the Council so that others may live."

The officers dutifully returned back to their posts but Natal noticed their slumped shoulders and sagged features. The morale was failing already. This was not good. Tiredly Natal massaged his temples before shouting after his XO and spoke in an authoritative tone "Vintus, I want the Spec Ops detail from the Vindinos unit on their way to extract High Value Individuals across the planet. One of these Persons is my family." Natal finished with an grave voice he could not keep in check revealing his troubled emotions to the XO.

Vintus nodded sympathetically and went right on the task relaying the orders to one of the Turians most finest Special Forces Groups they have. With an detail of two hundred men on Invictus, these soldiers were the best of the best Natal currently had. Established by the legendary Guard Captain Vinidons, the Special Forces unit nicknamed 'The Guard' had distinguished themselves in the campaign against separatist on the planet Taetrus. The Guard forces on planet were led by one Lieutenant Talus Marius, a capable war veteran and cunning tactician. He had no idea that this, would be the most difficult mission in his life.

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A drifting Alliance fighter held orbit over the burning soil of the planet, observing the chaos and tragedy of Invictus.

The _Thunderstrike _was a custom model infiltration fighter, the pinnacle of both XCOM and Alliance R&D. The ship was made entirely out of Ethereal alloy and infused with every stealth technology humanity had to offer. It was always held in reserve and only one pilot was allowed to use the vessel. The XCOM Commander's personal assassin.

During the Ethereal war there had been times when members of the human race had betrayed their fellow man for the wrong reasons. Money, power, technology, dreams of conquest. Whatever the cause they had to be captured or eliminated for humanity's greater good. When the military and police of the time would refuse, XCOM needed an answer. By the Authority granted to them at the time, a squad was created for the purpose of infiltrating and securing any human target. The Inquisitors.

After the war had ended, the unit was no longer needed, and their thinning numbers were never replenished. Eventually the last member died, and the unit was forgotten for a short time. When the discoveries on Mars were made, and the knowledge of the indoctrination techniques of the reapers learned, the unit was reactivated with a new purpose. With the Prothean data, human scientists knew that indoctrination would effect any and all organics given enough time or power behind it. However a synthetic brain was more than capable of rebuffing the mind altering signal.

Thus the top scientists humanity had to offer began the SESSER Project. The creation of the ultimate anti-psychic cybernetic synthetic super-soldier. Several different styles were designed, everything from androids to giant shielded combat chassis. All sorts of weapon combinations and part configurations. Combination after combination was tried, created, and tested. From the designs, dozens of new and powerful weapons were created, but the dream of the greatest man made soldier eluded many.

It was thanks to XCOM's Doctor Kevin Sebastian Knives that the project bore fruit after decades of failure. Instead of creating an artificial intelligence or making a battle robot of ridiculous scale they would start with a human brain. MEC soldiers were invulnerable to death by old age, their bodies preserved by the machines fused to their flesh. The eldest of them volunteered for the devilish doctor's designs. The volunteer had his brain removed and the very essence of him torn from the mush of aged gray matter to create a perfect intelligence. The hell-spawned procedure took, converting humanity's black knight into a truly peerless, ageless weapon.

The _Inquisitor, _as he came to be known, was reborn into a synthetic body. His endless strength was limited only by the durability of his body. His supernatural speed limited only by thought. At the cost of his name and identity, he was blessed with a body immune to age, disease, or fatigue. Unbound by the limitations of mortal flesh, the Inquisitor learned, copying all of humanity's knowledge within his synthetic brain. Thousands of styles and techniques made by mortal man was infused within his unfeeling metal frame. Swords, guns, bows, cannons, fists, if it was used by man to kill the Inquisitor knew every way to continue the macabre work.

The purpose of the Inquisitor was several-fold: assassin, infiltration specialist, one-man-army. The Inquisitor's purpose on Invictus was similar to the Wolfpack. The XCOM black ops would release the outbreak in the cities, the Inquisitor would hijack the Turian's military database. The data on Turian weapons, communications and designs could turn a long and bloody war into a killing spree.

The Inquisitor's _Thunderstrike_, held its position above the darkened skies of Invictus. The machine observed the swarm of Chryssalids as it grew and matured, saturating the planet with the unnatural blood lust of millions of created killers. It watched the progress of the Alpha, Beta, and Gamma teams. Each team was moving as ordered. It wouldn't do to have such promising soldiers turn rogue, the Inquisitor had already disposed of several other rogue XCOM members before.

When the outbreak reached it's peak the Inquisitor activated it's combat chassis, transferring its mind from the _Thunderstrike. _ The Chassis twitched slightly as the cybernetic possession occurred. The body stood slowly, flexing its humanoid form slightly to estimate its abilities. The right arm of the homunculus twisted and opened its palm, the pale silver-white skin that covered the form shifted into a flowing sand like substance, momentarily revealing the Ethereal alloy skeleton beneath it. The metal sand reformed into a long thin sword in the synthetic hand. the casual observer would think that such a thin blade could do little more than shatter, any machine that scanned the blade would find its monomolecular edge to be sturdy enough to cleave through the hull of an Alliance dreadnought without even the tiniest hint of resistance.

The Inquisitor performed several flawless stances, swinging the blade as an extension of itself. The whirling blade evading several ship components by molecules at its master's command. Self calibrations complete, the Inquisitor sent a command to the ship activating a drop pod. The Inquisitor climbed aboard and launched itself to the dying planet below.

There was work to be done.

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High up in the sky hovered a lone Turian frigate, the _Impending Justice._ Flying proudly over the planet, the ship followed her orders, raining continuous fire onto the planet. Sky Marshall Arierius stood over the bridge, the crew continuously adjusting as they received a new firing direction seemingly every second. . Arierius would never admit it, but his frigate and his crew were showing first signs of fatigue. They hadn't rested for a single minute after launch. Shell after shell. Missile after missile. Three times the _Impending Justice_ had gone back to base just to rearm themselves after they had yet again run out of ammunition.

"Sir, several crafts are reported to try and leave the planet, possibly smugglers." Said one of his officer with resentment and hate clearly visible on his face. "Get a second echolon on the chase and shot them down. No one leaves this planet without permission from Invictus Command."

The Officer snapped to attention and returned to his post with an grin on his face ready to execute his orders. Arierius shook his head in dismay at the overzealous young, naïve officer. He was cut short by his musing when his omni-tool blinked up alerting him to new orders. Warily he opened the file and his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets.

For the first time in his life Arierius hesitated. Quickly, before any of his subordinates could catch his stupefaction he barked at his crew. "Alright pack it up, all firing missions are to be disengaged and all weapons are to be loaded incendiary rounds. Safeties on over-horizon missiles are to be taken off. We have a new firing order. Shastinasio is gone. Gunners coordinate with ground forces and artillery positions to maximize the effect on target."

"Sir, scans show civilians and our very own forces out there. Is command authorizing friendly fire?!" asked a young ensign in sheer disbelief, stuttering in fear.

"Orders are orders now get it done." barked Arierius clamping his hands behind his back and silently prayed to the spirits above to forgive him for his sins.

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Beltway's mind was a mess. He had come out of the meld with the Asari, _"Morinth" _he mentally reinforced, with more than he had said. He had become compromised in more ways than one. When psychic powers became common place in humans many people tested their new abilities to see just what they could do. Eventually the power to meld minds together was discovered and soon used by couples to an extent that was unforeseen, an entire merging of memories and personality. Within an instant two people could truly become one person, not only learning but embarrassing everything about the other. Learning their traits, desires, skills. Everything. Being so radically different from the military grade surface meld, it was considered the greatest act of intimacy between two people in every culture, a sign of absolute love and devotion.

And now Beltway had performed a 'marriage meld' with an alien succubus. If his mother didn't think he was dead, she would kill him.

The four-hundred years of Morinth's life ran rampant in Beltway's brain. Memories of life as an Asari threatened to overwhelm him in ways never considered by any telepath before. During a normal merge there was never enough of an age difference to properly judge what would happen when a merge occurred between two people with a significant age difference. Beltway knew, and he didn't like it.

Constant visions and recollections of Morinth tore at his senses, thoughts that were not his own were bleeding into his mind at an unsteadily increasing pace. The demolitions expert caught himself attempting biotic techniques, his subconscious mind rebelling while his conscious mind denied. He found himself repeating several motions or habits that were not his own. Small gestures, a way of moving more consistent with someone who was not a six foot tall muscle loaded human.

Even worse was the urge to keep looking at Morinth. Before the merge the thought off all things alien repulsed him on every level. Now he kept making the odd look that would be more suitable to a school yard crush than a war-torn soldier. Yet still his body reacted, his eyes running over every curve of her any time she was not looking at him. Worse still, was that she was _arousing him_! The notion that he would get turned on by an alien was nauseating, but that fact that it was her made it all seem better. That notion terrified him.

The fact that Morinth was showing similar signs fascinated Four-eyes and Bertha, but sent a chill of unease into Beltway's gene-augmented bones. XCOM protocol was all to clear. In the field, all psi compromised subjects are to be executed if they cannot be cured or recovered. In the event that this Asari mind-fuck screwed him up too badly there was no doubt in Beltway's mind that Lupo would put him down.

Morinth's thoughts in his head almost made him ask for the bullet.

Morinth's thoughts at the moment were similar to Beltway's. The appearance of her mother complicated things on several fronts. Any Justicar was bad enough, but Samara had a hard on for her daughter... _"Goddess damn beltway and his thoughts!" _Morinth cursed in her head.

Where her thoughts plagued Beltway from the amount forced into her head, Beltway's essence plagued her due to the sheer mental strength behind them. Already many aspects of her personality had been overwritten by what she had stolen from the mad bomber. Just as Beltway tried to hide the fact he was subconsciously attempting to activate the biotics he lacked, Morinth kept reaching for a pistol or rifle that wasn't there. The phantom sensations of Beltway's movements were rapidly consuming her, the mental shadow of her one time lover piloting her body from within.

When her mother had attacked, she had fought like an XCOM soldier from the start, rushing in with fists just as Beltway had been trained. Her mother's millennium of knowledge in Asari combat was no match for the brutality of a humanity's close quarters combat styles. The biotic powers of the hated Justicar was enough to remove that advantage. The XCOM training continued to serve her well. The years of mental training Beltway had endured as a Volunteer class Psi-operative amplified Morinth's biotic power, no longer did the Ardat Yakshi need to use the gestures her training demanded. Instead the biotics flared to life at a thought and bowed to her will in an instant.

When the Wolfpack arrived to transport her, she nearly gave into panic when she couldn't feel their minds connected with her. Beltway's long standing habit of melding with teammates on the battlefield had nearly cost her life when it allowed her mother to slam her into a wall. When she ducked behind the squad she reached again for a gun that wasn't there.

Beltway's thoughts were swiftly becoming annoying. It was fortunate that they had already been evacuated, or Morinth was sure the constant mental strugle against the forign thoughts would end with her demise.

Morinth lay back in the Stealth ship's brig, taking comfort that while she was a prisoner at the very least her mother was dead.

Lupo stood just outside Morinth's line of sight, a gun in hand, pointed at the Prisoner.

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When he was still semi-human the Inquisitor had decimated the enemies of humanity using his MEC armor. Gatling guns, flamethrowers, grenade launchers, electromagnetic wave generators, railguns. All tasted the blood of the Ethereal scum. It was glorious, but unfulfilled. The weapons too impersonal, their effects far too devastating. You couldn't watch the life drain from a Muton's eyes if he was melted by Elerium fueled flame. You can't see the look of horror on a Ethereal when it was taken by surprise with a plasma grenade. It was just unsatisfying.

Yet now the Inquisitor felt fulfilled. It discovered new joy in it's eternal life, holding a Turian aloft. The metallic skinned alien struggled and thrashed as the Inquisitor examined its new pray. Around them the slashed and severed corpses of the Turian kin lay dead, the blue blood still flowing freely from the quickly cooling remains. The outpost the Inquisitor had landed in was on the direct opposite of the Planet's capital, and far enough away that the Chryssalids had yet to spread to it. The Inquisitor didn't care for the outbreak, only that its mission was accomplished.

The Inquisitor's eyes examined his still writhing victim. The musculature, the skeletal structure, the tendons, the eyes, dissecting the prey on the spot. The Turian screamed in pain but was ignored by the still working assassin. Obtaining knowledge was difficult, and how else was it supposed to learn the extent of a Turian's senses except by testing them. Pain threshold, distance for visibility, hearing range, sense of smell. All these things had to be tested in a hurry. It was rather unfortunate that such field testing in a war zone was extremely painful, invasive, and had probably driven the impaled Turian mad from the torture. Alas, such was the cost of progress.

With the desired knowledge acquired, the Inquisitor withdrew its essence from the Turian, silver streams of nanomachines returning to the host body along with the data. The Turian shuddered, twitched, and tried to heave as its body struggled to recover from being violated on every level. The fact that the Turian survived the physical trauma at all was a sign of how resilient their species were. To the Inquisitor it was just another reason all Turians needed to be purged. Anything that could serve as a threat to humanity needed to be removed.

The Inquisitor's sword pierced the Turian's right eye like a needle, and entered the brain just as easily. The Turian twitched again, and the Inquisitor twisted the blade.

Another squad of Turians arrived, aiming their rifles at the bipedal silver slayer. "Drop the weapon!" one brave, soon to be dead, Turian commanded. Three other Turians stood beside the speaker. One female, a new sample. The Inquisitor turned to its new prey, merging the sword with its flesh. The Inquisitor lacked data on Turian close combat tactics, such an oversight would need to be c_orrected..._

The metal man rushed his targets, silver sand tendrils lashing out, tearing into their guns and rendering useless. The Inquisitor's arms lashed out, striking the Turians in their chests and knocking them aside. Web like crack patterns formed at the point of the Inquisitor's attacks.

A heartier example of Turian physique was the first to stand, completely ignoring the damage to his armor. The soldier launched what would be a textbook haymaker at the Inquisitor's face. The impact was negligible, the damage would barely harm the average Alliance solder and was absolutely infective on the Inquisitor's metal body. The Inquisitor reacted by grabbing the Turian's head, and squeezed. The Turian had two seconds to scream before his head caved in under the pressure. The pink brain matter spewed from the remains and splattered over the slain fighter's team.

A female Turian screamed, the Inquisitor's sensors told it that she had lost the will to fight entirely. Seeing no more use in allowing her to live, The Inquisitor impaled her with its right arm, driving the limb into the Turian equivalent to the human heart. Shreds of the ruined organ clung to the Inquisitor, still trying to pump the dark blue blood in vein. Nanomachines dripped into her dying body, based on data acquired from previously slain Turians the female would be in a state of mind breaking pain at that point.

The Inquisitor removed its arm in time to grab an offending wrist from another male, who had clamped its wrists together in a form similar to a hammer fist. The Inquisitor spun swiftly its spine twisting an impossible three-hundred and sixty degrees before slamming the Turian into the ground with a heavy centrifugal force. The impact caved in the already cracked armor, the form fitting material becoming flat and severely dented. Drops of blood were coughed out of the victim's mouth, his mandibles parting with pain and surprise.

The final Turian was in a state of panic, an unfit subject for testing. His life was ended with a snap kick that tore his head from his shoulders. The Inquisitor retrieved the nanomachines from the female and scanned the area, there were several more groups of Turians on base.

There was so much testing to do, so many objectives to complete, and so little time. The Inquisitor was disappointed. It had hoped there would be a challenge to breaking into a Turian base. The outbreak had turned any source of authority into a buffet for the flood of genetically modified monsters. What few pockets of resistance left were little more than traumatized, terrified fools that died too quickly. Lacking proper guards, the normally 'impenetrable' security was non-existent, all the electronic locks easily disabled by the Inquisitor's superior technology.

The mission would be complete within the hour.

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Lieutenant Talus Marius marched towards the helipad where the rest of his unit had already entered their transports. Dust and smoke arose from the ground and illuminated intimidating awe inspiring figures. All dressed in HAZMAT suits standing tall and proud as their commander came closer to their position. Mighty guns hung from their bodies as many soldiers checked them over one last time. They entered their designated craft in perfect order.

Silent and professional.

Talus couldn't be more proud of his men. Hovering mere feet above the ground Talus nimbly jumped into the wide open side doors of the shuttle. Taking his seat beside the squads machine gunner Talus cast one last look at the base, catching sight of a critically damaged transport out of the corner of his eye, before nodding towards his second in command who gave the pilot the all clear. The doors closed on all the twenty transport ships, each carrying a squad numbering in ten of the most distinguished Turian Soldiers on the planet and took off to the respective destination.

Talus opened his company wide radio frequency and spoke in an utterly calm, professional voice "Gentlemen, as you remember our briefing, Invictus has become victim of an devastating terrorist attack. The situation on the planet is dismal and the General decided to cut our losses and haul ass off of this damned rock. Women and children first as we all know. Our mission is to ex-filtrate numerous persons of interest. Family members of Turian elite and the general staff. We have twenty targets, people in and out. Keep them safe and all of this will be over by breakfast. A Guards eye is always vigilant." Talus ended the last minute briefing of his company with the motto of the unit which was being muttered silently by every single member of the company like a silent prayer.

A few ships drifted off into different directions all over the planet however the majority, thirteen ships, headed towards the doomed Capital. Since Coms had failed in the early stages of the attacks and all previous rescue attempts have supposedly failed, the Guard was finally being sent in. Two hours after the city has been declared a free fire zone. No one knew where up and down at the point. Talus mentally went over the plan in his head one last time. Talus job was to ex-filtrate the family of Natal Vakarian located in the middle of the city within the red zone. The Free fire order had been lifted for the duration of this OP, but only for two hours after that the shelling would mercilessly continue.

Many of the Turian Elite probably knew that their families were dead, most just wanted some sort of closure. Some even held hope. Talus snorted just as the UT-11 Shuttle he was in shook violently and tiny bullet holes appeared in the interior of the transport. A bloodied shriek alerted Talus that one of his man had most likely been hit. True to his thoughts, a young Sergeant, struggled in his seat. Trying to seal his wound and cursing like a sailor. Blue blood bleeding profusely out of this gritty wound.

In that very moment, Talus radio exploded with countless reports from his company. His eyes widened has he heard the screams, barks of orders, explosions and the whistling of gunfire.

"MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!"

"WE'RE TAKING FIRE! HEAVY AAA FIRE!"

"INCOMING! IT IS MELTING OUR SHIP!"

"WE LOST GOS SIX! I REPEAT GOS SIX IS DOWN!"

"MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MAYDAY THIS IS...(static)"

All of this seemingly happened in parallel world to Talus. It was so surreal. Time seemed to crawl. The squads medic forced his way towards the wounded Sergeant. The shuttle shook to the left and right, yanking up and down so sharply that some men were being thrown out of their seats and literally flew across the cargo hold of the transport like rag-dolls.

Talus had only time to blink as the back of one fellow soldier smashed right into his face. He grunted as he tried to protect his head with his arms, as his vision exploded into billions of stars and smoke. Muffled noise reached his ears, blood red fog covered his vision. The brave Lieutenant shook his head and suddenly heard the iconic noise of the cargo hold door being opened. With great effort, Talus leaned over as countless bullets shot through the air missing him by a hair.

Relief flooded his body as he realized that they hadn't crashed and that the shuttle was somewhat still active.

His radio once again burst into life and Talus heard the panic voice of the pilot yelling "ROPES! ROPES! ROPES! Can't hold this position much longer!"

Inwardly nodding to himself and regaining his composure Talus turned to his battered squad and mentioned with his hands "FAST ROPES! GO, GO, GO!" The squad gathered their wits and began to clink their emergency ropes on the ship and descended into the nightmarish city that was consumed by an otherworldly evil.

Talus was the last to sail down to the ground when his world went black. Mixed images plagued his minds eye. A bright explosion. Melted metal and flesh falling down to the earth. The bloodied desecrated ground coming ever closer.

The soldiers looked in shock at the fallen body of their Lieutenant as shrapnel of the destroyed shuttle high above them, rained over their position. Pieces of the cockpit crashed into a nearby building setting it aflame.

"Get the Lieutenant outta here!" Shouted Master Sergeant Quirus, the second in command of the squad, as he checked for any targets in the area, ready to take them out in a moments notice.

Quickly checking his HUD, Quirus sighed in relief to see that the vitals of the Lieutenant were still green.

Hurriedly the Special Forces soldiers entered a torn open apartment. From the original ten squad members only six were still alive with the Lieutenant included.

"How far away from our objective are we?" Quirus asked as he checked the Lieutenant how luckily was coming around rather quickly.

"About four kilometers up north." muttered a fellow Sergeant who was on sentry duty watching for any hostile activity.

"Terrorists sir?!" asked a corporal checking another wounded soldier, only for the said soldier to slowly fall limp. "FUCK!" cursed the corporal as he savagely threw a used up med kit into a dark corner.

"Give the Lieutenant some adrenaline so he can get back up his feet." Quirus ordered a nearby soldier.

Talus felt how he was slowly pulled out of an seemingly endless abyss and with terrible great effort he managed to pry open his eyes. Gathered around him were the surviving members of his squad. A painful pang shot through his heart and felt incredible guilt enveloping his mind.

With an pained grunt and the assistance of two of his fellow soldiers the Lieutenant shakily stood up on both of his legs as he scanned the masked faces of his comrades before stopping at the Master Sergeant.

"Status report?" the Lieutenant whispered hoarsely.

"Gos six has been confirmed destroyed along with Sierra squad it was carrying. Other confirmed KIA squads are Kippala, Echo, Fargon, Lima, Black and Tremor. Interference is not allowing us to contact with the other squads or survivors. We are currently four kilometers away from our target."

The Lieutenant nodded and internally cursed viciously to himself. How could this mission go so wrong?

"Alright lets head for the objective we can't waste anymore time. Double time!" the bitter tone from the Lieutenant was not missed by the others but they knew what they had to do. Not wasting any second they remaining Squad moved out of the apartment and hurried their way towards a tall burning tower. Their target was there. And they had a mission to complete.

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Samara was normally cold, calm, and calculating. Her training as a Justicar had taught her to stay composed in even the most hectic situations. The code she followed had been refined and adapted to account for almost every situation that a traveling Justicar could encounter. However, the Code never accounted for what should be done during such a terrifying extinction event.

Terrifying bug-like creatures were roaming the planet killing indiscriminately, cities were burning, and people were dying and looting in the chaos. Such wide spread panic and chaos were not accounted for in the code. There was too much violence, too much killing, and too much evil. So much the code did not account for. It was madness, the darkness beneath society unleashed in one cataclysmic outburst.

The disguised people that guarded Morinth moved with military precision, could fit into the clothes of a Quarian, and used high powered explosives. The only people that Samara knew of that could match such a simple criteria were Asari. Either high class Asari mercenaries or commandos. No other species Samara knew of had the leg shape of the disguised ones, and could wear Quarian suits. Samara grasped at the only thought that would make sense, someone of power in the Asari people wanted her daughter for an unknown cause.

The infiltrators were framing the Quarian people for their crimes. If deeper digging occurred, the intelligent races of the Galaxy would debunk that belief by looking at the legs of the infiltrators closely. They wore long flowing garb that covered their legs, but close inspection would give it away quickly. However, if survivors of the outbreak were to spread word that Quarians were spotted aiding in the slaughter, the galaxy would rise up and commit to a mass genocide the Quarian people would never endure.

Morinth was a plague amongst the galaxy, but only a minor illness. The monsters unleashed and the masters behind it could easy become a civil war that would tear the Citadel races apart. Samara held no love for one people over another, but this could easily result in the loss of more worlds if something did not stop the looming massacres.

A bloodthirsty scream tore Samara from her thoughts. More of the monstrosities had found her.

With strength provided by the Goddess herself, The Justicar stood upon her shaking feet. Her ribs screamed from the movement, her left eye was nothing more than a blur and pain. Samara clenched her teeth and fists, calling upon her biotics as the monsters approached. She would survive this hell and warn the people of what she had learned, the code demanded her to do no less.

As the noble Asari plotted to stop them, the Wolfpack roamed.

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"General Natal! Major Tamos has reported in they have suffered heavy losses but managed to link up with the remains of Alpha Company and Anvil Hammer AND they have successfully reached a safe distance. But sir there is also something else."

Natal didn't like the sound of it. His XO almost sounded...angry. And that was something very rare for the young officer. A feeling of dread arose in him and Natal asked "What is it?"

"The Terrorists sir! They're Quarians!"

Seconds passed as Natals mind tried to process this piece of information. "Come again?!" Natal whispered as he dragged the XO into an elevator and pressed the emergency stop button.

Instead of replying with words Vintus pulled out his omni-tool pushed a few buttons and let a video play.

Natal's eyes widened to almost cartoon-like lengths as he witnessed how a female Quarian silently crept through a kids toy shop and pulled out a round device and gently rolled across the room right in front of an Batarian child.

Vomit started to rise within Natal as he witnessed the effects of these attacks. It didn't stop there, numerous other videos were shown were Quarians would throw a grenade like device or detonate large bombs. Then Natal saw video footage out of the helmet camera of an Turian soldier. Rachni like beast were every where, numbering by the thousands. Men and Women get ripped apart or melted to their bones by a bile of acid these things are hurling against his units, only to rise again and join the Rachni beasts as undead creatures.

One Rachni beast was torn apart by gunfire and emitted a dark green smog enveloping the poor Turian soldiers almost immediately they all fell to the ground, writhing in sheer agony. And within all of this carnage stood a group of armed Quarians completely unharmed, aiding, these monstrosities and even ordering them around.

Then the video changed to Quarian woman. She had a perfect hourglass figure and Natal had to admit she was attractive example of her species. One hand was on her hip, the other held a normal pistol that was commonly used by the police or armed forces on many Citadel worlds. In front of her was a battered Turian bound by arms and legs, shivering in fear. Numerous wounds covered the captive, common signs of intense interrogation and merciless torture.

Behind the Quarian woman stood two of the terrifying Rachni creatures. Venom dripped from their fangs, their crooked fingers grasped at air in desperate hunger. Their glowing yellow eyes remained locked upon the Turian before them.

"Three hundred years ago we were involuntarily chased away from our home world." Explained the Quarian woman. Her voice steady, strong, but stiff as if it had been rehearsed. "Billions of Quarian Men, Women and Children were killed or stranded in space. Foolishly our once proud people turned towards the _exalted_ Citadel Council, the self-proclaimed light of the galaxy seeking rightful help. _Yet we were cast aside!"_ She hissed with an age old venom.

"Shunned and humiliated we were not even allowed to establish a colony, that could become a safe home for generations to come. The Citadel says we don't deserve peace, wealth or prosperity. Just we are the guilty of unleashing the Geth upon the galaxy. A threat that has yet to be seen beyond the Perseus Veil!" The female proclaimed with great passion and greater anger.

"In the time of the Quarian's greatest need, across the galaxy, our supposed allies betrayed us and now seek to exploit our weakness! For three centuries we were deliberately oppressed, discriminated! But no more!" She cried out with vigor, "The bigotry and hypocrisy of the Council ends on this very day. We will no longer allow our innocent children, who are being sent on a pilgrimage, to submit to being viciously raped and brutally murdered by your 'civilized' people while the council does nothing. We will no longer let our families die a poor pitiful death, being taken by Batarian slavers or suffocate in our life-ships when our systems die out. This is to give a rightful home we _deserve_ to our families and children!"

"I say we must arise from the ashes and strike forward, taking the fight to both our foes and our betrayers! The Turians, Batarians, Asari and the Salarians." she spat out the name of each race like a curse upon existence itself, "Those who thought they could profit from our dire situation and tried in vain to suppress our will, they will see the consequences of their actions soon enough. The destruction of Invictus is merely the beginning of our great revival. Rise my fellow Quarians! Rise with us and let us show the traitorous Council and villainous the Geth! Show them the iron and steel beneath Quarian flesh. Let us cast them against the unbreakable rock of our collective will. LET THIS BE OUR DAY!" The Quarian female shouted dramatically to the heavens in a state of zealous ecstasy.

Calming herself from the speech, the Quarian female nodded towards the Rachni creature and with an obedient ear drum shattering howl they lunged themselves at the poor Turian captive.

Natal was speechless when the video had ended. His heart thundering in his ribcage. Hoarsely he asked his XO, "How many Quarians have managed to board a evacuation vessel?"

Vintus eyes widened as his mind drew blank. If the Quarians were responsible for this and managed to leave this planet...

Snapping out of his nightmarish haze Natal gripped his XO viciously under the poor mans forearms and shook him like a mad man while shouting "Get Arierus on line and tell him pursue any vessel with an confirmed Quarian on board! Board it immediately or shoot it out of the sky! Don't let a single Quarian board any kind vessel. All Quarians are to be shot on sight! We can't allow a single Quarian to leave and spread this pestilence! DO IT!"

To the survivors of Invictus it seemed as if suddenly someone turned on a switch. Every Turian soldier on the planet started to charge through the caravans of fleeing civilians, picking out the Quarians dragging them screaming and wailing, over to a wall or a ditch and fill them with lead. Soldiers storm vessels that are mere seconds before lift off and kill any Quarians they see. Panic spread throughout entire evacuation efforts and the already fragile evacuation into chaos. Panicked Quarians ran for their lives or returned fire in order to survive the seemingly baseless slaughter by the Turians. Hurt, confused and frightened the Quarians action did not help them to prove their innocence.

Riots broke out and in the midst of all that the Chryssalids drew ever closer towards the few safe havens that were left like an unstoppable flood, hungering for blood. Bombing runs and attilery left the face of Invictus scarred forever as the forward defense lines of the Turians perimeter were overwhelmed by hundreds of thousands of Rachni like creatures.

The main defensive guns soon began to overheat and turned useless as their insides begun to melt away. The Chryssalids did not cease their attacks. They sensed weakness and only became more aggressive, driven by their endless hunger. Howls of the dead and the anguished screams of the dying filled Invictus nighttime sky and served as an example of what is to come.

Death would befall the galaxy with no light at the end of the tunnel.

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"KEEP MOVING!" barked Lieutenant Talus as he and his unit ran through an dark alley, sweating and panting in fear. They could not stop the things would get them.

Risking a glance over his shoulder Talus looked at their pursuers and immediately regretted it. Creatures so terrible and so horrifying they defied every known law in the galaxy. How could such things exist?

They were hybrids of the new Rachni and their unfortunate victims. A lone head, Talus couldn't say if it was an Asari or a Turian or a Batarian, hung limply, sickly so from the long slick and gruesomely neck of the Rachni like creature. Bones and muscles poked out of the skin of the horrific creature. Thousands of teeth, if not an uncountable amount, filled the loose jaw. Arms and feet rigged with flesh tearing razor sharp bones snapped and slashed at the Spec Ops squad as they ran like they were chased by the spirits themselves, desperation encouraging them towards their target.

The street seemingly swayed left and right by the sheer amount of this nightmarish creatures, who howl, grunts and foul curses uttered by an awful guttural language. A soldier in front of Talus whimpered and shrieked as the disembodied horror slowly ever so slowly threatens to drown them in a sea of despair and death.

"Only five hundred meters MOVE!" yelled Quirus ramming through a blockaded door. The howls and ear shattering shrieks only got louder and louder. Pained anguished screams of the dying were audible but everyone knew they could not stop or they would share the unfortunate soul's fate.

Quirus ran through a hallway taking point for the group. With tragic timing he stopped suddenly, that action allowing another unfortunate soldier to smash into his back, only to get clawed to death by one of these horrible creatures. Quirus' body was sent flying through the air crashing, against a wall as another of the unspeakable creatures burst through a window and whisked the crying, struggling soldier into the shadows. Unseen the monster fed, serenaded by the anguished, pained, dying screams.

"FUCK!" cursed Talus as he jumped over the creature feeding on a Turian private and rushed down the hall.

The door at the end of the hall suddenly, slowly began to open and Talus called upon his last remaining strength as he sprinted towards his Elysium.

The foul stench and breath of his hunters on his neck. Talus felt sharp edged claws tear through his HAZMAT suit just as he throws himself into the room. The door thankfully closes by itself leaving the bloodthirsty maniacal creatures outside hammering in sheer insanity against the iron door.

"Are you alright sir?!" ask a young frightened voice of an child. Talus barely manages to look towards the source of the voice, to see a small male Turian child, hugging their fluffy Hanar toy.

Catching his breath Talus shakily stands up, his limbs shaking and sweating bullets.

"Fine. Gimme a minute." Talus panted as he choked back a coughing fit which would've likely led to him vomiting into his HAZMAT suit.

Releasing a steadying breath Talus looked at the child and recognized him from the briefing. He was one of the persons that they supposed to extract. The grandson of Governor-General Natal Vakarian. Garrus Vakarian.

"Are you Garrus Vakarian? Grandson of Natal Vakarian?" asked Talus as kindly as he could. The frightened child shakily nodded his nodded and suppressed a sniffle.

"Where are your parents?" asked Talus already dreading the answer.

"Dead." was the child short bitter reply.

Cursing under his breath Talus checks his HUD to see the status of his squad and whole company and nearly collapses in shock as his heart plummets into his stomach. All red. All KIA.

Every single member of his unit. His people, the brothers and sisters he was supposed to protect. Barely managing to choke back a howl of despair and loss Talus gathered himself and opened a com link to Invictus High Command.

"Command this is Harrier 0-1 Actual. Come in over we...I have made contact with the HVI codenamed ZEUS, I repeat ZEUS has been located requesting immediate extraction over."

Talus waited as only static greeted him.

Ten seconds.

Fifteen seconds.

Half a minute.

Just as Talus started to get uneasy the radio squawked in to life and Talus released a breath he didn't knew he was holding as he heard the voice Governor-General Natal Vakarian speaking "Thank the spirits. A UT-11 will be sent immediately. It will bring you straight to the _Impending Justice,_ ETA two minutes, over."

"Roger that sir Harrier 0-1 Actual out." Talus shutdown the com-link with blossoming relief, only to notice a large data package that had just been sent by Governor-General Vakarian with a small note attached to the file. Curious, Talus opened the note and read.

-Important-

-Give my grandson this data cache-

-Tell him that his parents and I have loved him dearly-

-Watch over him like he is your own-

"Excuse me, soldier sir... would you mind telling me if my Grandpa is alright?!" asked the child in naïve curiosity. Talus for the first time in his life found himself unable to utter word as the implications of Governor-General Vakarian's message only now fully realized by his numb mind.

"_Spirits, no..."_ Talus didn't, couldn't answer the boy. He didn't even utter a word when the shuttle arrived to extract them both. Not tearing his eyes from the young child, oblivious that he was the last of his kin, who kept his youthful gaze towards the burning, dying planet. His home. Tenderly, Talus reached out and softly half petted, half stroked the young Garrus head, who silently wept for everything he had just lost in the blink of an eye.

His entire unit, two-hundred men and women dead. A whole planet on fire and entire families butchered. Talus never even imagined that something like this would ever happen to him or to anyone else in the galaxy. Talus mentally asked both himself and the universe a question. A question that united every single species whether they know it or not. May they be Humans, Quarians, Batarians, Asari or Turians. All of them. Everything searches for a reason, a meaning behind a tragedy outsiders could not even fathom.

_Why me?_

"Why?" Talus muttered softly under his breath as they docked at the battered frigate, _Impending Justice_, unknowingly loud enough for the young Garrus to hear it and let it fester into his scarred mind. In this very moment, unknown by the Lieutenant, a spark of determination that a fire of ambition within the young boy.

Young Garrus looked through a window on the frigate, staring at the charred and butchered remains of Invictus. As he gazed upon the remains of his grandfather's home from orbit he made an oath to himself. He would find the reason for the carnage that would plague his mind for years to come and that destroyed billions of lives. He would find out who is responsible for this tragedy.

And he would make them pay.


	10. The Ideas of Mad Men

_It watched with disdain and fury at the events that had passed. The puppets were failing._

_It contemplated its next move with great care. The children were expanding their influence to quickly. Within a galactic cycle they would be able to influence and prevent many species from following the plan any longer. _

_They needed to be stopped. Nazara's puppets were impotent against the children. Their pointless belief in peace and talk would allow the children too much freedom to grow. More violent puppets would be needed. Tools that would bite and hunt and feed upon the children._

_It reached out. Stoking the fires of hatred within those that lived on It's world. Hidden beneath the seas, It's poison touched the minds of those who led. Any desire for peace was removed, orders to cease were ignored. These puppets had failed before, but would obey like the rest. Their skills at killing were needed once again._

_This time they would not fail._

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When a person imagines a scientific research laboratory, they imagine many things. Clean white walls. Shining silver machines. Odd tools, glass beakers, and dozens of computers with trailing wires. The laboratory of Kevin Knives was anything but. His walls were stained, the machines were tarnished. The tools impaled into the ruined remains of overclocked computers.

The loss of Shanxi and the creation he had made in retribution haunted the prestigious doctor. His white hair hung in ragged strips from a balding head. Bloodshot eyes gazed unblinkingly at the single remaining monitor in the room.

Dr. Knives kept his eyes on the screen as he injected himself with a combat stimulant, guiding the needle with peripheral vision. "Just one more... Only one more..." he muttered to himself, gently rocking back and forth. It had been just under a week from the 'Invictus Outbreak' and the good doctor had refused to sleep after watching his creations work.

One-hundred and forty-one years ago his family had fought against the Ethereal monsters and their army. His ancestors had fought, bled and died to defend the human race against the nightmares from the stars. They stopped them with determination, vigilance, and sacrifice.

And he had spit upon that sacrifice.

The Chryssalids were not only his mistake, they were an unforgivable sin. Not only had he brought back a terror from the dark, he had made it stronger as well. The doctor paused from his rapid typing to wipe at his tearing eyes. "_Christ forgive me..._" he thought to himself, not for the first time and certainly not the last. "If there's a god listening to me, please let me fix this..." he prayed aloud.

The Chryssalid data had already been deleted. The samples, both live and dead, and research notes were all destroyed. The remaining Chryssalids would die out soon enough, their hyper-fast metabolism would kill them within a day without a constant source of digestible bio-mass. Multiple fail-safes had been built into the Chryssalid strain to prevent it from harming humanity. "_If I had known how effective they would be, I would have never bothered to tamper with them at all._" The doctor bitterly reflected, with true remorse.

The Doctor's plan was put together with the idea that the strike would be on a _Turian_ World, with _Turian_ victims. The purpose of his plan was to slaughter the Turian people and demoralize them. The people of Shanxi had suffered an unsurvivable slaughter, and that's what Knives had planned to give them. In his haste to get revenge, and make up for personal failures he had destroyed the lives of hundreds of millions. Many times the price humanity paid at Shanxi. _"An eye for an eye, indeed."_

The loss of alien life would be considered terrible by most. The loss at Shanxi had shaken the elder in many ways. Things that he had been taught in life had been brought to question.

After the Ethereal war every capable human was taught to fight. Survival, both wilderness and urban, was taught in schools. Students gained several courses on tactics, weaponry, and defensive skills as a requirement to graduate. Military enlistment was made mandatory. For over a hundred years humans were taught to fear, hate, and kill anything alien.

Over eighty years of life, and the Scientist considered, for the first time, that humanity had been wrong.

The Turians had been a spark, but without the build up of racial hatred for an unseen foe the conflict at Shanxi might not have been the utter disaster it had been. If Saren's half-dead body hadn't been strung up like Christ at the crucifixion then the Turian General would not have given the furious responses he had.

If Humanity had made first contact with any of the Citadel races, rather than wait for a passing patrol to find them, then the Relay incident would have been little more than a filing of paperwork instead of the opening salvo to a intergalactic war.

"_If I hadn't tortured the prisoners, and treated them like prisoners-of-war instead of test subjects I wouldn't be responsible for the deaths of ninety million people." _ Knives thought morosely. "_This war will be the death of me..._"

Depression, age, and fatigue tormented the old man. Involuntary tremors shook his arms. Side effects of overdosing on the stimulants had already set in. Within the hour his body would tremble as if he were suffering from seizures. A soreness was already setting into the muscles.

The Doctor kept at his work, ignoring the potential health hazards for the potential gain. Weapons, armor, omni-tools and other tech recovered at Shanxi had been brought to Luna, reverse engineered, studied, and replicated within a week. Within two weeks Alliance modified models were being produced and tested. At week three, new upgrades to existing Alliance Infantry technology was being released.

At week four as operation outbreak was underway, more extreme weapons were devised. At week five, the Parameters of Operation Outbreak had been changed, and the Alliance fleet was undergoing a massive overhaul. As Operation Outbreak hit its peak on week six, Knives was proposing more advanced MEC Suits based designs found on Turian Ships.

Then, seven weeks after the loss of Shanxi, the Wolfpack returned with a library's worth of data and their Asari captive.

Combat data on the Chryssalids was horrifying. Not only were they far more capable than they had ever been at the hands of the Ethereal, but they bred and mutated at an unforgivable pace. With every generation of Chryssalid, traits from the previous generation and the victims used to host the newborns became dominate on the Meld-strain abominations. Most mutations were failures, melted or oozing features preventing them from being as much of a threat as their precursors. Some more frightening traits surfaced however. Chryssalids with multiple eyes, vestigial limbs, exoskeletons, even newer strains that would resurrection from what would have killed the other strains.

Several videos from Invictus had appeared painfully familiar to the scientist. It had not been long before he realized how. With growing dread he had retrieved several recordings from the Ethereal war, the Chryssalid terror attacks on South America. The Doctor spent hours watching the same clips with the same traumatizing realization. "_I've been continuing the Ethereal's work..._" He had thought with loathing and self-contempt.

If it hadn't been for the drain he felt upon his immortal soul at that very moment, Kevin Knives would have taken his life in agonizing despair. Half a day later, the doctor made a new set of plans. He would fix this: End the war, kill any remnants of his creations, and make reparations for what he had done. With obsessive focus, the mad doctor poured himself into new projects and designs, pushing himself beyond his limitations time after time.

He could do no less.

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_The monsters were spreading! The chittering, the screaming, the eating! They thought they could escape the burning world, to flee to the stars for refuge! _

_They had been wrong, so very wrong._

_The monsters were getting smarter. They were learning. They hid aboard their ship, stowed away till their hunger forced them to feed. Then they attacked, slaughtering the crew to make more of their kind. _

_Now only he was left._

_He had to scuttle the ship, stop them before they could infest another world! The chittering grew louder as the monsters searched for him in the dark. They sniffed the air, clawed open containers, violently searching. _

_He felt a monster's claws pierce his chest. Worse than the pain of his looming death, was the pain of knowing that the monsters would spread when the ship inevitably crashed._

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The Alliance council looked over the Invictus Report with disgust, fear, and shock.

Pro-Diplomacy members watched the slaughter of new species with dread, believing that a chance for peace and a sharing of culture with any peaceful alien races would now be impossible. Colonist representatives trembled at the thought of surviving Chryssalids rampaging upon their worlds. Earth representatives sat in their seats, with blank faces carved with granite. Once upon a time, their ancestors suffered from the same fate that they had just unleashed on another world. A weapon they had wholeheartedly approved of under the notion that it would only strike at the species they were at war with.

What was meant to be a demoralizing weapon could very well become the Turian's Alamo. An event that could very well rally the remainder of the Citadel races into a war with humanity should the truth ever be discovered. The Council of Humans was not pleased and they let the XCOM Commander know they were displeased.

"Do you mind telling us why you felt it was necessary to risk Alliance resources and operatives in the field to promote this theory that another species was behind the attack?"

Harper had been grilled for hours over the events of Invictus. Every detail from his choice in operatives to his decision to bring back the Asari. "Honorable council, I admit it was a gamble." Harper explained calmly, standing firm. "During the course of Operation Outbreak the Wolfpack reported that they had adopted disguises to better move within the population. According to their reports, knowledge of Humanity has not spread to the edges of Citadel territory. However, I felt there was no point in risking discovery. "

"When I had learned of the Quarian people from the weekly transfer of data and reports I devised this gamble. If my plan is successful the Citadel government will waste valuable time and resources investigating this disaster. The weapon's test was successful and it seems as if the Turians took the bait are are currently blaming the Quarian people." he stated coldly, "I fail to see the problem."

Several councilors shifted in their seats, others glared. "Our problem is that before, we could have used diplomacy to make peace with other races or at the very least made a non-aggression pact. Permission to use the Chryssalids was provided under the belief that we were attacking the Turians. Not giving the entire galaxy a reason to exterminate us!"

Many Councilors muttered noises of agreement, "Commander Harper, when you learned that Invictus was a colony with other sentient species besides the Turians you should have called off the operatives. Instead you used them to promote a civil war that may instead point every army in the galaxy after us!"

"Councilors, please." Harper cut in, "According to news taken from Invictus before our attack, the Turians are being ordered to stand down at Shanxi by the Counsel and diplomatic parties are being sent to Shanxi to try and make peace with the survivors. The Citadel is reporting to its people to be on the lookout for our refugee fleet. They believe us to be scattered to the stars! They have no reason to believe humanity could be behind this! Most aliens have yet to realize what we look like!" He protested.

"While what you say is true commander, it does not change the fact that what you have allowed will have drastic diplomatic repercussions in the future!" An Earth representative stated, "Unless you intend for our people to spread war throughout the galaxy, at some point we will have to make some form of peace with these species!"

Those trained in even the mildest form of expression reading could recognize the instant of disgust that passed over Jack Harper's face at the thought of peace with anything _Alien. _"Be that as it may councilors, we are at _war_ right now. The Turians wont back down, their pride as a species and their very culture demands our deaths."

One of the Councilors leaned forward in her seat, glaring at the Commander, "You just told us that their command has told them to stand down. Why would they continue a war their superiors have instructed them to cease? Or are you simply warmongering?" she asked with slight interest.

"Just because the Citadel has commanded them to remove themselves from Shanxi does not mean they aren't still looking for us. If you look in the report you will read that the Inquisitor was sent to infiltrate and steal Turian communications and military information." Harper opened several displays with Turian documents, files, and their translations. "The Turians still intend to fight us. Even now several Turian patrols have been sent to other Relays connected to the Shanxi system in an attempt to find us. They have switched to wartime production and reactivated a large number of troops. They have been forced to leave Shanxi, but there is no doubt they intend to finish us off."

Jack Harper was not thrilled with the less than convinced looks he received from his superiors.

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_The collective was in a stalemate. New factors had come into play._

_Without proper data, consensus about the new species was impossible. The new species 'Human' showed multiple signs of self-contradiction. _

_They acted like a militaristic race, yet did not follow established war tactics. Transmissions from Human worlds claimed desires for peace, for war, for genocide, for interbreeding, and for domination. Data suggested that humans were incapable of consensus on multiple levels. The collective were considerably confused as to how any species could be so divided and yet accomplish anything. It was paradoxical._

_The collective was aware of the Human's attempt to implicate the creators and the Asari of creating the Invictus situation. Evidence claimed by the survivors was low, limited and easily misunderstood. The collective agreed that the Council-Citadel would take cautionary measures against Creators and Asari. The Collective was also aware that many organics would blame the creators, despite the judgment of Council-Citadel. _

_An eighty-seven percent chance that the organics would attack and harm the Creators existed. If this occurred the Creators would face extermination._

_The Collective had debated for hours. If they stayed in isolation, the Creators would be at risk. However the necessary level of intervention would risk the Collective. _

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Morinth was bored, irritated, and sexually frustrated.

The first two problems were from the same cause. The moment the Wolfpack's frigate landed, she and Beltway had been locked in a isolation cell together. Normally that wouldn't be an issue, but the two had been left alone for _days_. The entire time they had been trapped, her cellmate had spent in a corner. Pointedly ignoring her.

The last problem was entirely Beltway's fault. The cell was small. Two cots, a standard bathroom set with a privacy curtain, and four cameras in each corner of the room. For a normal Asari the urge to mate was no stronger than any other species, it was a genetic drive but could be ignored with discipline or self gratification. As an Ardat-Yakshi the rules were different. It was a constantly growing need, similar to hunger. For years she had hunted hundreds of mates, melded with them, only to be denied a proper release. Then she had melted with Beltway in a moment of desperation. To use a human comparison it was as if she had been dying in the desert, only to find an oasis. The explosive release she had finally achieved from the bomb maker was divine gospel to her body.

Morinth scowled slightly, as her body demanded she take Beltway then and there. The man sat across the room from her with out armor or weapons. His rugged face accentuated by a thin whiskery beard. His arms were muscular but thin. A swimmer's build. The sex crazed Asari was daydreaming about the man as she continued to undress him with her eyes.

Beltway felt every second of her stares, and to his shame it made him feel unsettled and aroused at once.

Morinth's vast assortment of memories had settled in the bomber's head. The results were mixed. On the one hand he had nearly five hundred years of culture and knowledge of the various races in his mind, on the other hand he knew every single sexual experience Morinth had ever had. Beltway's mind was swimming in an ocean of porn. He knew every curve of her body, what got her off, and how to make her beg for more. Your average human male could get turned on with a minor suggestion, thanks to Morinth, Beltway had hit the inter-species porn singularity.

Finally he had had enough with the stalker eyes from his cellmate. "Do you need something?" He asked her with his smart-ass drawl. Morinth's reply was a scream of sexual frustration and leap at the bomber to tear both of their clothes off.

Several XCOM guards watched the resulting video feed with shock, disgust, awe and several shades of jealous blue balls. The Video was recorded and a legend born.

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_The Prisoner drifted between the darkness and the blurs. Shades of green and blue swirled around him and his cell. The cold uncaring caress of liquid covered him, covered him. _

_The Prisoner could hear his jailor outside the liquid. The familiar dull tones of his voice barely pierced into his tiny world. _

_The wires, pipes, and chains that held him in place twitched as they continued their experiments on him. Knowledge flowed into him, guided by their accursed machines. Drugs and potions entered his war-torn body, forcing new changes upon his atrophying flesh. _

_The Prisoner was broken in mind, body, and spirit. At one point he had craved freedom, now he would do anything to just die._

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Shanxi had been a paradise, an otherworldly garden of Eden. Every Earth year hundreds of thousands would move to Humanity's frontier world, seeking a new life.

It was now a desolate wasteland covered in the ruins of hundreds of burnt out cites. The bomb scorched remains of millions littered the planet. A chocking cloud hung over the sky, blotting out the sun and casting the land in shadow. Shattered buildings and crashed warships littered the landscape, bleeding fuel into the already tainted soil. Wilting plants struggled to grow in a world that could no longer support them. Poisoned water, stained with blood, flowed over the soot stained streets of a once thriving society.

David Anderson sat in the ruins of an underground railroad, munching on one of the few military grade survival rations his team had left. His left leg was held in a poorly created cast. When the bombs fell they had been two miles away from the nearest evacuation point. Their options had been to duck underground or make a run for it. They took the safer bet, hiding in the metropolis' subways system. Their Prothean Titan armor had been essential for shielding them from the worst of the nuclear fallout. Many Alliance soldiers survived the blast, using their training to save as many civilians as they could.

It hadn't been enough.

The bombs fell, targeting cities, bases, anything that could hold or support any number of humans. Overkill had become the word of the day as the Turian fleet lay waste to everything. The people who couldn't escape huddled in fear underground, many of those who fled underground found themselves pinned or trapped, buried alive. The Fallout and flood of radiation slaughtered most of the remaining civilians within the first day.

After the first week, the Turians landed on Shanxi again, this time searching for surviving technology and humans. Demoralized Alliance soldiers fought with desperation, every Turian encountered was brutally tortured for information. The persistent invaders were then subjected to humanity's ingenuity and talent when it came to killing. Trip mines, burial traps, hit and run raids, if they thought of a way to kill a Turian it was used.

Anderson had been chosen to lead. A position he was very hesitant to take. For weeks the remnants of Shanxi had fought their invaders, both out of spite and need to survive. No word had come from Earth, no sign of the Alliance returning to save them. When the Turians left the planet, it came as a surprise.

No more bombings, no cleaning strikes, nothing.

The remnants let out a collective sigh of relief, they were stuck in a nuclear hell-hole, but they were still alive. Plans to re-establish communications were undergoing when a new report came in from one of the surviving comm stations. A new fleet had entered Shanxi's orbit and was broadcasting to and scanning the planet. Not Turian, Not Alliance. When a dropship was detected Anderson was determined to see who the newcomers were. A squad of six rushed out to observe.

Anderson's eyes were locked onto the ship the moment it entered the remains of the Capital. The vessel was a remodeled Turian design, several places on the hull had obviously been rebuilt with parts from other ships. It moved with more skill than its original design possessed, possibly as a result of it's modifications.

The Vessel landed on the outskirts of the destroyed city. The ship opened up, exposing several turrets and a ramp for the crew to disembark from. From inside, two dozen troops marched out, using debris as cover to take defensive positions. Anderson's trigger finger slipped into position. He had chosen to hide in the remains of a tower, the height advantage worth the risk of a quick demise if his roost collapsed beneath him.

The new Aliens had canine like legs and three fingered hands. Unlike the open yet bulky armors of the avian-like Turians, these newcomers wore tight closed suits. Possibly due to the abundance of radiation. With no obvious threat discovered, the new species called for more of them from inside the dropship. These wore different colored suits, with less visible armor. With them came devices, even to a jar-head they had the look of a scientific device to them.

"Whats the order Captain?" a squaddie asked over the short range comm.

Anderson hesitated. His people were wounded and starving. Already many of them were showing signs of radiation poisoning, even with the minor treatments they could provide. The survivors were low on weapons, ammo, power supplies, and medicine. If the new species could help them, it could mean a new asset against the Turian threat. If this fucked up, and it had a massive chance of that, then the Shanxi remnants were going to die.

"Everyone, stand down." Anderson felt their judging disbelief staring at him, even though none could actually see him. With the speed and grace expected of an XCOM elite David Anderson swiftly jumped, ran, and maneuvered to the bottom floor of the tower, less than thirty yards from the newcomers.

"I'm going to try to talk to our new visitors. We need help, and this is a chance we can't let us slip by if we want to get off this rock." Anderson holstered his rifle, "Also whether this goes belly up or not, someone slap me for this later on."

With the dread filled sensation of having said his last words Anderson approached the landing party, his hands held up in a position of surrender.


	11. Foreshadowing at the Citadel, Part One

As if in divine defiance of the Citadel's attempts to display a pretty pristine presentation of being the tip top of the galactic community, crime was rampant in the slums of the graceful and elegant space station. On an average day cycle the Salarians would try to scam someone into buying cheap junk, the Krogan would be enforcing or selling 'insurance', the Batarians would try to trick people into a 'servant contract', and the Quarians would be trying to scavenge what little they could to sell or get by.

Many things would change this day, but the morning started like all the rest.

The familiar wake up call of people in some sort of peril caused a slum slumbering Quarian to wake up, almost releasing his half-empty bottle of Turian spirits to spill on the uncaring metal floor of his alleyway bed, "Let me go you boshtet!" a feminine voice yelled, distorted by a face mask. "_Quarian girl in trouble, first thing in the day. Great.._." the booze soaked bum thought sarcastically.

Aerin'Zorah groaned, standing up from his hiding place beside a waste receptacle. He had spent the previous night celebrating his twelfth consecutive successful surgery with a large amount of drinks and some very poor choices. His mask was missing, again. He was hung over, and his limbs felt heavier than normal. His head was pounding, a fact not helped by the yelling Quarian maiden in trouble. With half-cocked haste the hungover, would-be hero rushed to the aid of his fellow pilgrim.

As was the norm the victim was indeed a Quarian girl, definitely a fresh pilgrim recently departed from the migrant fleet. Far too many of them chose to start at the Citadel, thinking that the bastion of society would welcome them with open arm and amazing gifts for the people. Aerin rolled his eyes at the thought. _"Stupid naive fools..." _The difference with today's harassment was who was bothering the girl.

Normally it was Batarians looking for a quick slave, or Salarian merchants looking for a disposable worker. The pair of Turians clad in Citadel Security armor was an unwanted and unexpected twist. The Turians were looking at their target of choice not with the usual dislike or disgust. It was a look filled with the lust for violence you would expect on a Krogan.

Aerin did not like that at all.

"Move it suit rat, your wanted for questioning." The taller of the two demanded, you could hear barely restrained anger in his voice. When the girl continued resisting, the second Turian slapped her helmet from behind, hard, the unexpected action knocking her to the floor.

"Looks like the suit rat is resisting..." the shorter one drawled, "I suppose that means we should use force..." he said, activating an electric rod program on his omni-tool. The taller one chuckled, activating his as well.

Aerin really didn't like that either.

Normally when C-Sec came in for questioning, they asked the questions out in the open as fast as possible then left. Sometimes with a vague warning not to leave the area. This was much more, and very wrong.

"_The things I do for people who don't care at all." _Aerin thought with a sigh. Taking a larger swig of booze directly from the bottle, the Quarian bum began purposefully staggering over towards the confrontation, the hood of his robe like rags concealing his heritage and features.

He took five more swigs directly from the bottle, barely holding down the increasing urge to release the burning vomit rising in his stomach. With practiced ease, he pocketed the remainder of the booze while he walked right up to the Shorter officer and let the mix of booze and digestive acids fly. The pale white and caramel colored swirl of sick painted the overly aggressive officers, drawing their ire away from their chosen target and onto himself. It was a tactic that worked plenty of times before. Nobody ever paid attention to the drunken rag clad slobs that littered the Citadel slums.

"Sorry, my friend, " Aerin slurred badly, "The doctor said its not contagious! I swear!" Aerin began patting the vomited sludge with the sleeve of his rag in a poor attempt to clean it.

"Get off of me!" Shorty yelled, shoving Aerin off him with excessive force.

Tall cop held Aerin down with a booted foot, glaring at the pile of rags, "What do you have?" he questioned sternly. Aerin noted his hand was drifting dangerously close to his pistol.

"It's the Bacterial fever is all! The doctor said its only, " Aerin forced himself to vomit over himself again, instantly regretting the loss of good booze, "he said its only spread by liquids!"

"Oh spirits damn it!" Shorty complained, hastily wiping the vomit from his face and neck. The Taller one activated his comm, pulling his partner away for a medical pick up, completely forgetting about their previous plans for the Quarian girl.

The moment they were out of sight Aerin leapt to his feet, discarding the rags and revealing a heavily modified Quarian suit still sans his mask. "Are you all right?" He asked the upset girl, less than three microseconds later he realized he screwed up.

"Your mask!" the rescued girl exclaimed in a panic, "We need to get you to a doctor! Now!" She started tugging at his arm, intending to drag him to aid as soon as possible.

Aerin pulled the container of spirits out of its hiding place and took a deep gulp. "_and here comes the hard part..._" He thought drolly. He pulled his arm from her grip sharply. "I'm gonna be fine," He told her with a hint of forlorn bitterness, "I don't need a suit or a mask."

The girl looked at him with a mix of shock, awe, and a massive load of curiosity. "How is that possible!?" she asked in a panic as her brain caught up, "we need to get you back to the fleet at once! How did you do it? Medicine? Drugs? Come on! Let's go!"

Aerin smiled at her bitterly, "That's not a good idea." He rolled back the sleeves of his suit, revealing a cold metal arm underneath. An arm dangerously similar to Geth design. "I don't think the Admirals would be too welcoming to a half-Geth Quarian..." he added.

The girl jumped away from her savior, no doubt her face having become impossibly pale beneath her mask, before turning to run away with all the speed her lithe body could offer. Aerin watched her go with a feeling of remorse, "I suppose I should have been nicer about it..." he quipped aloud, walking away from the scene. The chemicals in the drink dulled the unique Quarian's senses, dulling painful memories and the regrets that came with them. The potent cocktail had never been enough to block everything however.

Aerin'Zorah nar Qwib Qwib was an unusual example of a Quarian. For one, he could give less than a day's waste sack about the Geth, Rannoch or anything to do with the history of the Quarian people. He found that knowledge like that would just hold him back. His brother, Rael'Zorah, was into that whole mess. He was the pride of the family. An admiral, a scientist, engineer, a 'paragon for the Quarian people' as Aerin's mother was prone to remind him constantly. In comparison Aerin was the disappointing underachiever. Where his brother chose to stand out, Aerin avoided all things stereotypically Quarian.

Aerin hated being in small environments, he hated being on spaceships, he never completed his pilgrimage, and he had no desire to return to the Migrant Fleet. Like all Quarians, Aerin possessed above average skills in mechanics, computers, and other electronic skills. Like his brother, Aerin'Zorah used his talents to study the Geth and other cybernetics. Unlike his brother and his rampant desire to destroy the Geth, Aerin sought ways to improve the Quarians by meshing Geth technologies with the remains of Quarian technology. And he was succeeding.

He had rediscovered the art of Quarian biological to mechanical augmentation.

It had taken many years of struggling, wandering the galaxy, getting chased away, dodging the numerous flavors of slavers and law enforcement officials, but he had done it. The final roadblock in his journey had been the hardest to do. A viable test subject. After all it made no sense to design and build the dozens of tools and devices that he had worked so hard to bring into existence. Lacking any other Quarian volunteers he used the only person available: Himself.

Funding for his venture wasn't that hard. Word of Aerin'Zorah's work had reached the ear of one of the greatest information traders in the known cosmos. The Shadow Broker. The illusive data trader cut the rogue Quarian a deal. His research would be fully funded provided Aerin did two things for the broker. The first was the standard 'Keep his mouth shut' the second was to build a special device for the Broker: an implant that could transmit commands and receive data from nearby computers. The implant wasn't hard to design, nevertheless Aerin kept the design to himself until he was sure his own goals were complete.

With the All-knowing Broker's funding it was wasn't hard to find a variety of morally bankrupt doctors to help oversee his procedures. A few were less than the required level of skill, but with the number of them assisting in the operation it wasn't the life or death matter it would have been if Aerin had cut himself open.

With the aid of the mercenary surgical team Aerin was the first Quarian in nearly five hundred years to undergo the invasive procedures needed to become fully augmented. A synthetic organ was used to replace his heart, it pumped a nanomachine rich blood in his body to prevent illness or poison and stop his body from rejecting his new hardware by overgrowing with scar tissues. Next was his arms. Two synthetic exoskeleton-like arms were grafted over his normal arms, the machines replacing his skin and amplifying his strength ten times over. After a few solar cycles to recover the legs were replaced with the same style exoskeleton that covered his arms, the knees removed to make his legs double jointed.

After his recovery the Broker wanted to see the results. Aerin's new abilities intrigued his employer, several times the Broker's agents were sent to him for similar surgeries. As time went on Aerin added several more prototypes to his body, seeking more and more ways to reduce, if not remove, many weaknesses held by the Quarian people. His obsession eventually reached the point he was at now: the chest and head of a Quarian, but the rest was all Geth.

At that point the Broker had decided he had enough of waiting for his personal implant, and chose to remove the middle man. The Broker had believed that his own augmented goons would be enough to restrain and handle the cybernetic Quarian. The Broker had been wrong. The arms and legs his soldiers used were basic models. While they gave increased speed and strength, they supplied nothing else. Not like Aerin's own continuously modified limbs. The Scientist had spent his free time toying with, experimenting with, modifying and overhauling his own prosthesis. Instead of just being a minor upgrade, Aerin'Zorah's augmentations were closer to omni-tools than a pair of arms and legs. Realizing his life was in a severe amount of danger he destroyed his lab, his notes, and as a final spite to the Broker, installed the trouble causing custom implant into his own body. The Broker had not been pleased, placing a seventy million credit bounty for him.

With limited options the mechanical Quarian fled to the Citadel, using the security and politics of the galactic hub to camouflage himself and hide.

"Hey you!"

Aerin looked up. Officer short stuff was back, still partially puke stained. The rogue quickly decided that digression would be the better part of valor and ran away, with the Turian officer giving chase.

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As Talus Marius stood before the Council in a trance. As they reviewed the recordings, reports, and statements of Invictus survivors memories of what happened on the planet fluttered in his mind. An uncountable series of traumatic memories that refused to cease, flashing before his eyes and echoing screams of the dying in his ears. As if to highlight the Turian soldier's torment Video recordings of the newly discovered Chryssalid strain played for the entire hall to see. New scenes of grim, gore stained horror were added to Lieutenant Marius' recollections of a planet most could only now describe as hell.

For an uncomfortable number of hours Talus stood as stiff as a titanium rod, awaiting the review to end so he could finally answer the honorable Councilor's questions and return to Garrus. "_The poor boy hasn't slept in weeks...Spirits... Who could blame him after what we've seen..._"

"Lieutenant Marius?" prodded Councilor

Valern, "Are you absolutely sure of everything in your report?" The Salarian representative stared, unblinking, at the Turian survivor.

"Yes Councilor." Talus replied stiffly,"To my knowledge, everything in that report is accurate."

"Tell me Lieutenant, who do you believe is responsible for the Invictus tragedy?" Valern questioned patiently.

"A Quarian terrorist cell."

Valern looked at the Soldier with a gaze filled with disappointment and hint of annoyance."Then you are an absolute idiot."

Councilor Sparatus slammed a fist upon his podium, "Wait a moment Valern!" interjected the Turian Councilor, "We all saw the video! Are you telling me that those Quarians threatening us are not Quarians? Preposterous!"

"Tell me Sparatus, did you fail your biology courses when you underwent your training?" Valern asked mockingly.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Look closer at the legs and the suit of the so called 'Quarians' you idiot." Valern replayed the video, zooming in on several shots of the terrorist's legs. "Look at the legs. They are entirely the wrong shape! In several spots you can tell the suits they wear are loose or even open! Given the knowledge that any Quarian would die from a minor fever you cannot possibly believe that these are Quarians!"

Sparatus took Valern's opinion with a massive pile of salt. "Just because you think you see some minor details doesn't mean anything! The suits could be layered or have another form of protection underneath!"

"Then explain the legs then. An obvious feature of Quarian physiology." Valern snapped back calmly.

"It could be a mutation or a side effect!" Sparatus protested, "I'm telling you two minor details doesn't mean that you should dismiss the possibility!"

"No, but it does mean that your soldiers have made an utterly stupid decision and attacked a people under false pretenses twice within a planetary cycle! There is no excusing this, there were thousands of Quarian refugees that your soldiers killed under the possibility that they were a risk! How could-"

The Asari representative flared her biotics, silencing them both. "Enough!" Shouted Tevos, turning to her Salarian counterpart. "Valern, it was a wartime decision. The planet was burning and a clear threat to Citadel space was discovered. It was a cruel decision and more than needed, but something had to be done then and there." The Asari faced the Turian with fire in her eyes, "Sparatus your people's position is already at risk. If you ever try to justify such rash actions again I will see to it that you will suffer for the insolence."

"Now see here!" Sparatus started.

"Now nothing! We are still facing public fury for the debacle at Shanxi! Do you have any idea how many groups are demanding we start a trade embargo, restrain the Turian military, or even remove you from the council! Do not mistake a lack of punishment for approval of your actions! There is a new Rachni threat, a terrorist cell possibly disguising itself as another race, and two worlds that need support! We do not have time for your petty arguments!"

Tevos rubbed at her head, the sign she was facing another migraine.

"Do the two of you even realize how bad this is? There are thousands of survivors in Citadel space that don't have the report to go from, only the knowledge that the Soldiers defending Invictus believed that Quarians are involved. The Public is already furious from Shanxi, they are upset at such a blatant display of Turian brutality and what they perceive as a lack of discipline. If we support Governor Vakarian's decision to execute the Quarians we will be seen as accomplices to Turian blood lust and we will face other issues from the Migrant fleet itself. However if we denounce the Turian actions on Invictus then there will be no stopping the riots and public outrage that will erupt."

"Don't forget that if we support Vakarian's choice then the public opinion towards the Quarians could hit a new low." Valern added slowly, "Its only been several solar cycles but already we have seen several marked increases in violent crime with Quarians as the victims. Already there have been Quarian disappearances there are also reports of Quarians abandoning homes and jobs to return to the Migrant Fleet. I cannot imagine the Admiralty Board taking this news lightly."

"Do either of you know where the terrorists could have discovered the Invictus-strain Rachni?" Tevos questioned.

"The Special Tasks Group has come up surprisingly empty handed." Valern replied, somewhat bitterly, "The new Rachni have only basic similarities to the old variant. The new breed is genetically unstable." A large display of several severely different Rachni was activated, "The Rachni have several startling abilities. High speed regeneration, nothing short of total destruction of the head and torso will kill them. They have a severely acidic poison in their bloodstream, it becomes aerosolized when exposed to any amount of oxygen, a few drops are capable of covering areas thirty centimeters in diameter and still remain as potent. The Rachni will bite or cut themselves to expose the poison in order to weaken prey. The most frightening ability is their reproductive cycle."

Valern paused, clearly unsettled by what he had to say.

"They seem to reproduce by attaching parasites to hosts, living or dead. The parasite will attach itself to the host's central nervous system and attempt to take control of the host body. If the host is still alive the conflicting signals will cause devastating internal damage as the body undergoes a state of rapid major organ breakdown. If or when the host is dead the parasite will animate the body and direct it to attack anything nearby that isn't Rachni, allowing the newborn more hosts to implant when it gestates. Unfortunately gestation takes a varied amount of time depending on the species, state of the host, and whether the host is alive or dead. The shortest time was in minutes, the longest in hours. A noted infected Krogan took a solar cycle to complete the gestation period, the STG believes that the Krogan regeneration granted a limited resistance to the parasite. The final detail of the reproduction cycle is that it takes barely hours for the newborn Rachni to mature to adulthood."

"Spirits help us..." Sparatus muttered under his breath. "What demon would let such a beast exist?"

Tevos tried to keep a brave face on, but her pale complexion gave it away. "Do they have any notable weaknesses?" She asked, with a hint of desperation in her voice. _"The goddess couldn't help us if they don't..."_ She thought morbidly.

"There only seem to be two weaknesses to the Invictus-strain. First, they are genetically unstable after a few generations of breeding they begin to take on traits of their hosts and mutate with features from the host. Eventually they become misshapen and chaotic, their bodies unable to support themselves and their combat effectiveness takes a drastic drop. The second weakness is their metabolism. Because of their impossibly fast rate of healing and reproducing these new Rachni need to feed constantly. Judging from what samples and specimen we could obtain we estimate that they starve to death within cycles of hatching. Some mutated variants have been seen entering a state of hibernation, but it is incomplete and many still starve to death before re-awakening. Many of the mutations lost their regeneration and reproductive abilities which allowed them to slow their metabolism and outlast the others, thankfully that number was very few."

"How in the name of the Goddess could the STG obtain samples?" Sparatus questioned.

Valern hesitated, his answer was not pleasant, "There have been a number of ships that escaped Invictus with someone infected on board. Many of them are floating in space or have crashed killing all those on board. The STG encountered several while searching Invictus and its orbit for survivors."

"Was there any sign of The Governor-General?" Sparatus pressed, hoping for good news.

Valern reviewed the STG reports for several moments skimming for the information, "The STG located where Governor Vakarian made his last stand. He and the remainder of Invictus High Command did not survive. They were overrun by a swarm of the mutations. His body was intact, mercifully uninfected." Valern noticed Sparatus' paling complexion, "For what it is worth I am sorry for your people's loss."

Sparatus was not pleased by the information, sitting down in his chair. Sparatus had been trained by Natal Vakarian back when the Governor had been a Major. The loss of Natal Vakarian would be a devastating blow to Turian morale, the General had long been held up as a paragon of what a Turian soldier should be for decades. There wasn't a single Turian Soldier in the last sixty planetary cycles who hadn't known about the Vakarian legacy.

"Primarch Fedorian will need to be informed. Excuse me." Without waiting for a dismissal Sparatus left the chamber.

Lieutenant Talus didn't take the news much better. The General's final message had him suspect, but hearing it confirmed made the loss feel so much more real. "_Oh Spirits... Garrus..._" Talus thought miserably. The young boy had been left in the dark about his grandfather, Talus not wanting or not knowing how to answer his many questions had simply told the boy the truth: He didn't know.

"May I be excused?" Talus questioned, realizing he finally had an answer for Garrus.

Valern nodded, most likely realizing what Talus intended to do, "Make sure you do not leave the Citadel Lieutenant, you may still be needed later on."

Talus left the room, his feet filled with lead and his heart filled with dread.

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Aerin wasn't happy. When you work with the shadow broker and his army of pawns some of their information gathering skills will eventually rub off on you. The fact that two Turian C-sec agents would risk their badge just to harass a Quarian pilgrim didn't sit well with him. It didn't take long at the local hangouts to find out why.

Invictus. A known Turian vacation trap turned death trap.

The moment he started sending out extranet requests for information he started receiving hundreds of reports opinions and public outcries. Copies of multiple videos showing Quarian terrorists killing Turians with the help of Rachni were spreading to the public like a virus. Dozens of sources were claiming the videos were fake or lies, many Salarians and noted scientists pointing out several things that could point out that the people viewed could not possibly be Quarians. Lack of accents, wrong shaped legs, the odd featured suits, none of the evidence truly changed what the Citadel people were seeing. Quarians unleashing Rachni.

Most who saw the recordings or heard the tale from Invictus survivors were not old enough to have lived during the Rachni wars, only hearing tales from the Ancient Krogan and Asari who experienced it or reading about it in history texts. What they did know was the fear the Rachni caused. The devastation. The death. The chaos and ruin they brought to dozens of worlds. For ages the members of the Citadel warned their kids of the terrors spun by the Rachni, they taught them to fear a faceless evil.

Now that their nightmares had a face, the people reacted as all who face such perils do. Anger, violence and fear.

After the Mourning war, the Citadel races refused to help the Quarian people, selfishly fearing to aid them for fear of the Geth assaulting them. Eventually that fear was proven false, and to justify themselves they labeled the Quarians beggars and thieves, falsely believing that a race of homeless vagabonds couldn't be anything but trouble. After the Mourning War the Citadel had given the Quarian race a final devastating blow. Until the Geth threat was ended and the home world of Rannoch reclaimed, the Quarian people would never be allowed to colonize another world. Many Quarians believed it was a death sentence for an accident.

Now the people had something to blame. Something to hate. Something to fear. Aerin'Zorah's search revealed hundreds off attacks on Quarians and their supporters, people fearing the possibility of a Rachni attack were removing what they thought would be the cause of an attack, not realizing that it would instead make them a bigger target. Many Quarians were receiving messages from concerned friends and family begging them to return to the safety of the fleet. Aerin was pointedly ignoring the idea of returning to the Migrant Fleet. With his modifications it was unlikely he would even be welcome.

Instead of finding a nice place to hide from any anti-Quarian sentiment that he might encounter, Aerin decided a drink was in order.

Purgatory was normally an interesting place. Run by a rookie information broker named Aethyta the place was decorated with mostly Asari art and themes but it was one of the few places that carried Aerin's preferred brand of Turian spirits. Whenever Aerin had an urge to attempt to drink himself to a stupor he would visit the good Matriarch, share stories, buy booze, and drink and drink and drink. One of Aerin's favorite ways to make money was drinking contests with Purgatory's assortment of patrons. Many foolish Turians and Krogan were sent to the medical bays of the Citadel challenging Aerin's reputation and stomach.

Aerin's entrance to the bar was not unnoticed, "Goddess... Aerin! I've been worried about you." Aethyta looked over the cybernetic Quarian as he sat at his usual place at the bar, "Have you heard the news about this new group of Quarians? Are the rumors about Invictus true?"

Aerin narrowed his eyes. Aethyta was a rookie broker, but would still know plenty about such a news worthy bit of info. "_Shit, someone is here._" He thought with a large dose of annoyance. _"Judging from the over acting and the fact that she isn't hinting at someone, its someone professional."_

"I heard all about it. I don't know anything about some mad Quarians and you know what?" He asked, spinning around in his seat with false cheer, "I don't give a damn either. Now how about a drink?" He followed with an exaggerated gesture, miming gulping down a drink. The spin and fake joy were a front. When Aerin spun in his seat he took advantage of his new face mask and looked about the room for any threats. Five 'off-duty' C-Sec members were sitting at a booth nearby, they're expressions were not friendly.

Aethyta poured a set of multicolored drinks together, ducking below the counter once or twice to flash Aerin a view of two scatter guns and a blade she kept on hand in case. Aerin declined the offer with a subtle gesture with his hand, and tapped on his arm to warn her.

"Hey Quarian," said a rough voice from behind, "You need to come with us for some questioning."

"_Oh for the love of the homeland..._" Aerin thought with a hint of disdain. "What seems to be the problem officer?" He asked in a joking tone without turning around.

"There was a break in on the Zakara Ward. The suspect matches your description."

"Let me guess. Tall, thin, wearing a skintight environmental suit and helmet? Congrats you've described two million Quarians."

"Aren't you witty..." the officer growled. Aerin could hear the tale-tell beep and whirl of an omni-tool transformation. The moment he heard the officer move Aerin ducked and rolled, swiftly standing with his arms in a defensive stance.

The five officers were ready and armed, each had a stun rod or defensive rod in hand. The cornered Quarian pondered over his options while dodging the now swinging C-Sec forces. Sticking to non-lethal tactics would result in some bruises but if he cut them down quickly there was still always the chance they would cause more trouble in death than they could in life.

"Pin him down while I call this in!"

"_Well that solves that choice..."_ Aerin thought a bit of mental sarcasm. With practiced grace Aerin caught the closest officer's omni-tool forged weapon, and activated his own omni-tool protocols.

Most omni-tools worked by using nanomachines to flash construct or deconstruct tools or computers at the users' whim. The nanomachines were usually pre-loaded with certain scripts and protocols based on creator or user specifications. This of course meant that most were restricted to how much they could do, when they could do it, and for how long they could operate. Aerin'Zorah's customized Omni-_Arms_ didn't have those weaknesses.

The moment Aerin's synthetic hand touched the officer's defensive rod, made of course from flash forged Omni-gel, Aerin's arm nanomachines rewrote the C-Sec omni-tool. Within seconds it was converted from wrist mounted super tool to scrap wrist band. The Nanomachines and Omni-gel it once contained were siphoned into the reservoirs concealed inside the synthetic arm for their new master's use.

The Turian cop had a few seconds to dully say "What?" before Aerin followed his startling skill with a sucker punch to the throat. The offending officer dropped to the bar floor coughing, wheezing and desperately trying not to vomit.

The remaining four hesitated, unsure of what had just occurred. Aerin took that moment to activate another application of his limbs. "Armor." he commanded clearly. The limbs instantly reacted to the voice command, unseeable to an unaided eye, dozens of slots opening unleashing a swarm of Nanomachines to transport and mold the previously stolen omni-gel. In seconds the material was shaped, molded, superheated and remade to form hundreds of plates of neon orange that covered Aerin'Zorah in a suit of armor.

The officers didn't take the challenge lightly, pulling their sidearms from their holsters. "Deactivate your armor, and extend your arms to the side!"

"Don't keep up the act, Turian. We both know your doing this because of Invictus." Aerin warned, done playing around, "Now either back down or I will break you in half."

"Your people should have stayed in that floating waste barge you call a fleet!" one barked firing a shot into Aerin's shielded face. The bullet ricocheted off the armor, as the other three began to open fire. Aerin's response was simple: charge.

As bullets bounced harmlessly off his armor, Aerin ran at the C-Sec officers fists tight to his side. "Arms, low overload."he commanded. The arms began emitting a cackling blue electrical charge, sparks leaping from the forearms. With excessive force Aerin rammed the loaded limbs into the two closest of his foes. A specific thirty-five thousand volt charge was released from both arms at the point of impact, the setting was low enough that the risk of death was low but the two would be knocked out from the pain and electricity that ran rampant inside them.

"Last chance." Aerin coldly informed the remaining two, "Get lost, stop picking on Quarians, or I can stomp both of you down to pulp."

The duo looked at each other, and grabbed their partners to drag them away. As they left they made the standard threats of violence and retribution, but Aerin honestly couldn't care less. The Citadel's glorified security force was a load of waste bags in comparison to the Shadow Broker's hit squads.

"Aethyta, beautiful exemplar of the Asari Goddesses, would you mind pouring me another drink."

The Matriarch pulled out a bottle of Salarian swamp fire, a rather strong brew, and two glasses. "Flattery is nice Zorah, but your still paying for the bullet holes." She said, filling both glasses and drinking one straight. She drank one down as a shot and handed him the spare.

"Now tell me what is going on." Aethyta demanded, her face serious, "Those C-sec bastards have been pulling my Quarian regulars ever since word of a massacre on Invictus started spreading. I haven't seen one return yet. I don't like it Zorah. "

"Long story or short? Either way your not gonna like this."

"Short, the C-Sec will be back soon with friends. I don't need you disappearing on me too."

Aerin told her what he knew. He was right. She didn't like it.

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Primarch Fedorian was not in the best of moods. For months he had been feeling ill at ease, as if a shadow lingered over him at all times. He had expanded Turian patrol routes several times for the last three planetary cycles to ensure that there was no threat approaching Turian space. Then the self-righteous humans had shown up. _"The Humans need to be extinguished!" _heard echo in his head viciously, for a few moments he seethed in rage and self-loathing, "_Why couldn't that thrice damned patrol have just killed them all! Those primitive parasites couldn't even die right!_" Fedorian thought spitefully.

After the Siege of Shanxi, as the Citadel races were calling it, everything had started to become poisoned in some way or another. Salarians were withdrawing offers of trade. Many colonizing rights in Asari or Salarian space had been revoked, causing billions of credits worth of plans to be scrapped. There was even whispers of military sanctions on the Turian fleet! It was an outrage! The Primarch knew who to blame. The Humans. It always came back to the Humans. Constantly they invaded his thoughts, reminding him of the failure of his people.

A knock on the door of his office pulled the Turian leader from the boiling vat of hatred that was his thoughts. "Enter." Fedorian commanded, taking a seat at his desk.

Desolas Arterius entered, his face as sullen and withdrawn as it had been since the death of his brother. "You asked for me, Primarch?" he asked expressionlessly, dutifully, empty.

Fedorian looked at the fleet General with pity. After the announcement that the Turians would be forced to leave Shanxi with nothing to show for their losses many Turian officers had been furious with the Citadel, others had been upset but followed orders. Desolas had shut himself off from his emotions entirely. During recent training it was noted that the General nearly killed his sparing partner during routine close range combat exercises after mentioning the events of the Shanxi siege.

"Welcome General. Seal the door," Fedorian commanded, "we have something important to discuss."

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AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE

AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE-AUTHORNOTE

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Greetings readers!

Normally I don't like to do author's notes. I think they are ways to poorly increase word count. However the number of negative reviews and messages I received has lead me to believe that I need to say this: This is not a goddamned Warhammer 40K story. This story is covering the (in most fics and strangely cannon) glossed over events of the first contact war. Just because it has humans fighting Turians in an interplanetary war doesn't mean I am going to push for total warfare across the stars featuring pitting humans against every race until humanity waves its triumphant dong over the desecrated corpses of all it not-human foes. That is a gore fic, and while I like to go into detail with the slaughter I am not a gore fic writer. While it may entertain some for questionable reasons, that is not a good story.

In my opinion a good story has more than just the one central plot, more than one element, and usually (for the big ones) more than one set of characters. I'm sorry if this is disappointing to all of you but I'm not going to write gore and warfare just for people to get a dose of violence, I want it to have a plot-line and story driving it. If you want pointless warfare and violence, go buy a copy of an FPS game. I admit I'm not a great writer, hell, most of the time I don't even think I am a good writer. However, I want to, and will continue to write this story to the best of my ability. I might not post on a daily basis or even weekly, but I intend for Once Bitten to not just be finished but to be the first of a series.

Rant concluded I want to thank four people: the pkrmgc, Nathanhale2, Gorebad Ironclaw, and Dur'id the Druid.

Whether they know it or not these four inspired me to keep writing this, and if any of them are reading this I want to say honestly and sincerely, "Thank you". I admit, when I first started to read the outraged messages loading my inbox my ego took a massive hit. A lot of you really thought I was suddenly going to have humanity give up, bend over, and take it up the rear with a smile on its collective face. Pardon the overused pun, but fuck that. There will be four events that have to occur before this story will be over. I'm not going to tell you exactly what they are, only hint at it, otherwise whats the point?

1. The Cycle will be broken.

2. Palaven will shatter.

3. Humanity will Rule.

4. The True Foe will be forced to reveal themselves.

Until these four events have occurred, there will be no peace between Humans and Turians. The War will not end, and the violence so many of you crave will not end. Humanity is an infant on the galactic scale. Even with the most impressive technology in both XCOM and Mass Effect they just don't have the numbers nessisary to wage the war the way you all think they should. _They will need help!_ Just because it makes peace with the other species out there doesn't mean its going to become all flowers and love. That is not how real politics are played. In humanity's history many countries have made allies with those many would call monsters. That didn't mean that when one hand was handing out a gift, that there was not a dagger in the other. Yes, Humanity in my fic is xenophobic. Many of you keep thinking that means everything human hates everything else. Xenophobia is defined as: (and I am quoting a dictionary) **_fear_ _and hatred_** of strangers or foreigners or of anything that is strange or foreign.

Many of you have misinterpreted my story and that is my fault as the writer. I get that. Again, if you want to see blood and gore due to blind hatred your not going to get that here. In this Fic humanity is a race that has looked at the stars for hundreds of years thinking that its death will come from the void. They explored and expanded and found the threat they had feared. They were attacked and lashed back. When more peaceful encounters come, humanity cannot claim to be intelligent and civilized then strike down a race of gypsy-like people with space aids. It would not only make for a bad plot, it would be something I just couldn't write. I have openly said on my profile that if any of you ever want to try and remake my work then your welcome to, hell, send me a link or message and I'll even help write it. That being said however, I am not going to change how I write. While the material I have made here is spawned from someone else's creation the story (at this point) is my own.

My apologies for the rant, I know this boosted my word count by an unnecessary amount, but again I feel this had to be said. As many writers say many many times, please read and review.

Thank you all for reading _Once Bitten, Twice shy_ so far, and I hope you enjoy it up to its end.


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